HIS    LIFE   AND    TIMES, 


BY    R.   C.    WATERSTON 


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tICSB  LIBRARY 


With  the  Writers 

best  regards. 


BOSTON,  71  CHESTER  SQUARE, 
1884. 


OF 


GEORGE  BARBELL  EMERSON,  LL.D. 


BY 

ROBERT    C.    WATERSTON. 


PRESENTED    AT    THE    MEETING 
OF 

THE    MASSACHUSETTS    HISTORICAL    SOCIETY, 
MAY  10,  1883. 


2UEttf)  a  Supplement. 


CAMBRIDGE: 
JOHN     WILSON    AND     SON. 


1884. 


MEMOIR. 


IN  the  town  of  Wells,  Maine  (then  a  part  of  Massachu- 
setts), Sept.  12,  1797,  George  B.  Emerson  was  born  ;  and  in 
March,  1881,  at  the  house  of  his  son-in-law,  Hon.  John 
Lowell,  at  Chestnut  Hill,  Brookline,  he  died,  at  the  advanced 
age  of  eighty-four.  His  father  was  an  able  physician,  a 
graduate  of  Harvard,  a  man  of  uncommon  ability,  with  schol- 
arly tastes  and  acquirements.  Beloved  and  respected,  he 
not  only  had  a  wide  professional  practice,  but  he  made  the 
schools  a  special  object  of  his  care.  In  the  choice  and 
appointment  of  teachers  he  was  consulted,  and  as  a  visitor 
of  the  district  schools  his  face  was  familiar,  while  his  counsel 
and  encouragement  were  always  welcome.  He  had  the  right 
word  both  for  parents  and  pupils,  and  exerted  a  beneficent 
influence  wherever  he  went.  Mr.  Emerson's  grandfather 
was  a  clergyman  in  Hollis,  New  Hampshire,  and  he  not  only 
was  a  very  acceptable  preacher,  but  he  was  widely  known 
through  all  the  county  of  Hillsborough  for  the  pre-eminent 
skill  with  which  he  fitted  young  men  for  college.  Thus 
the  rare  gift  of  teaching  seemed  to  have  been  transmitted 
from  generation  to  generation.  As  an  inherited  quality- 
it  had  come  down  from  father  to  son,  not  evidently  wear- 
ing itself  out,  but  gaining,  with  time,  fresh  impulse  and 
inspiration. 

Mr.  Emerson's  boyhood  had  nothing  in  it  of  special  ex- 
citement. He  was  contented  and  happy  with  the  simplest 


method  of  life.  Quiet  in  his  manners,  he  was  at  the  same 
time  deeply  in  earnest.  He  had  the  most  beautiful  balance 
of  character.  There  never  appeared  to  be  with  him  any  great 
effort  in  acquiring  knowledge,  and  when  acquired  it  seemed 
to  form  a  natural  part  of  himself  and  had  no  tendency  to  be 
forgotten. 

Let  us  look  at  the  school-room.  The  building  was  such  as 
is  generally  used  for  a  common  country  school.  It  pretended 
to  nothing  more.  It  had  the  advantage  of  the  watchful  care 
of  his  father,  Dr.  Samuel  Emerson,  who,  if  the  windows  were 
broken  or  clapboards  torn  away,  would  at  once  send  and  have 
them  repaired,  so  that  there  was  not  the  disgrace  of  unreason- 
able dilapidation.  But  in  justice  it  must  be  said  that  the 
teaching  and  discipline  within  the  school  always  held  the 
place  of  supreme  importance.  Only  in  the  winter  months  did 
George  attend  school.  In  the  summer  he  worked  upon  his 
father's  farm  and  in  the  garden.  At  first  thought,  this  may 
appear  to  have  been  a  serious  privation.  Perhaps  to  many 
young  people  it  would  have  proved  so ;  but  George  always 
accounted  this  arrangement  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune.  It 
gave  him  that  out-of-door  life,  the  benefit  of  which  he  felt 
through  all  his  after  years. 

He  worked  with  constant  diligence,  —  sowing  the  early 
seed,  watching  each  stage  of  growth,  and  gathering  the  au- 
tumnal harvest.  Work  on  the  farm  he  liked,  and  never  grew 
weary  of  it.  Every  implement  used  he  became  thoroughly 
acquainted  with.  His  own  conviction  was,  that  active  life 
under  the  open  sky  tended  to  quicken  his  powers  of  observa- 
tion, and  was  the  best  possible  experience  for  him  to  have 
gone  through.  The  most  fragile  plant  he  studied  with  un- 
wearied care,  and  not  a  tree  of  the  forest  escaped  his  notice. 
The  oak,  the  beech,  the  maple,  the  pine,  the  spruce,  the 
hemlock,  all  won  his  attention,  and  revealed  to  him  some 
secret  law  of  their  being. 

Preparatory  to  his  presenting  himself  at  Cambridge,  he 
attended  for  a  time  the  Dummer  Academy  at  Byfield,  where 
he  devoted  himself  to  Latin  and  Greek.  Any  additional 
preparation  for  college  was  made  at  home,  under  the  care  of 


his  father.  In  1813  he  entered  Harvard,  and  commenced  his 
college  life.  Among  his  classmates  were  George  Bancroft, 
Caleb  Gushing,  S.  J.  May,  S.  E.  Sewall,  and  Stephen  Salis- 
bury. At  that  time  President  Kirkland  was  at  the  head  of 
the  college,  Edward  Everett  was  tutor  in  Latin,  Professor 
Farrar  was  head  of  the  mathematical  department,  while  Dr. 
Hedge,  Dr.  Henry  Ware,  and  George  Ticknor  held  responsi- 
ble positions.  Such  men  could  not  but  give  life  to  the  whole 
university. 

Two  letters  have  been  received  from  those  who  were  prom- 
inent in  his  class,  —  one  from  the  Hon.  Stephen  Salisbury, 
and  the  other  from  George  Bancroft,  the  historian.  Mr. 
Salisbury  writes :  — 

"  My  own  rooms  at  Cambridge  were  at  a  distance  from  the  college, 
which  prevented  that  frequent  intercourse  which  we  might  otherwise 
have  enjoyed. 

"  We  were  therefore  at  that  time  not  intimate,  hut  when  we  did 
meet,  it  was  always  pleasantly.  Our  mature  friendship  sprang  up  in 
the  last  quarter  of  his  life,  rebuking  the  common  notion  that  the  hap- 
piness of  love  is  the  privilege  of  the  young.  ...  I  can  remember,  but 
I  cannot  describe,  the  pleasure  I  had  in  Mr.  Emerson's  society  and  in 
his  correspondence.  That  the  enjoyment  was  mutual  is  proved,  not 
only  by  his  cordial  welcome,  but  more  tenderly  and  unequivocally  by 
the  neatly  kept  file  of  my  occasional  and  not  frequent  letters  which  his 
daughter  sent  me  after  his  decease. 

"  Such  personal  reminiscences  as  you  ask  will  not  be  desired.  You 
know,  and  can  learn,  all  the  particulars  of  his  life.  You  appreciate  and 
love  his  genial  and  wholesome  character,  and  you  will  give  us  a  memoir 
in  which  the  old  and  the  young  will  find  pleasure  and  instruction." 

Mr.  Bancroft  says  :  — 

No.  1623  H  STREET,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
18th  May,  1882. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  George  B.  Emerson,  of  my  class  in  Harvard,  was 
so  industrious,  and  so  exact  in  the  discharge  of  all  his  duties,  that  there 
is  no  story  to  tell  about  him.  He  was  very  sweet  and  amiable ;  always 
cheerful,  and  very  industrious ;  so  regular  that  he  was  distinguished 
from  others  of  his  family  name  as  Pater  Emerson.  1  remember  that 


at  one  time  he  gave  great  attention  to  mathematics,  and  at  all  times  to 
the  study  of  Greek  ;  having  done  as  much  or  more  than  any  one  of  us, 
in  reading  not  only  what  was  required,  but  a  good  deal  more  in  the 
historians,  especially  Herodotus.  I  remember  nothing  of  him  that 
was  not  pure  and  ingenuous.  He  was  one  of  our  best  scholars,  and  so 
far  as  I  know  never  had  the  slightest  jar  with  any  one  member  of  the 
class  in  the  whole  period  of  our  course.  I  have  tasked  my  memory 
for  incidents,  but  were  I  to  write  a  much  longer  letter,  I  should  only 
have  to  repeat  what  I  have  already  said,  under  different  forms. 

Yours  truly, 

GEO.  BANCROFT. 
To  the  Kev.  R.  C.  WATERSTON,  Boston. 

These  letters  from  his  old  classmates  are  proof  of  the  re- 
spect and  affection  in  which  he  was  held.  Indeed,  it  may  well 
be  said  that  the  affectionate  respect  extended  towards  him 
was  universal.  It  was  seen  throughout  the  whole  college  life. 
The  president,  professors,  and  students  all  united  in  this  feel- 
ing, and  it  evidently  continued  to  the  end  of  his  career  with- 
out abatement.  That  which  moulded  him  into  such  a  noble 
manhood,  giving  to  him  maturity  of  judgment,  imparting  an 
elevated  tone  to  every  thought,  was  not  the  college  text- 
books, whether  Latin  or  Greek  ;  it  was  the  spirit  which  ani- 
mated the  whole  body  both  of  professors  and  students.  Recall, 
for  a  moment,  Kirkland  and  Bowditch,  Ticknor  and  Norton, 
Hedge  and  Ware,  Frisbie  and  Farrar,  Gushing  and  Everett, 
Salisbury  and  Bancroft.  Can  any  one  think  of  such  a  com- 
pany of  men,  and  not  feel  their  quickening  power?  Stimu- 
lated by  companionship  like  this,  the  only  real  trouble  was 
that  the  mind  found  little  opportunity  for  rest.  Mr.  Emerson 
attempted  to  make  four  hours'  sleep  balance  twenty  hours 
given  to  work.  As  the  result  of  this  overdoing  and  wrong- 
doing, first  the  eyes  gave  out,  and  he  became  nearly  blind ; 
then  the  whole  physical  system  broke  down,  and  he  was  forced 
to  go  home  and  put  himself  under  his  father's  professional 
care.  He  was  reading  Xenophon  and  Herodotus,  Hesiod 
and  Pliny  and  Cicero  ;  and  yet  the  time  came  when  the  over- 
taxed eyes  were  obliged  to  cease  working.  Having  read  all 
Homer  except  the  last  book  of  the  Odyssey,  worn  out  by 


over-exertion,  he  sank  midway.  He  knew  then,  full  well, 
that  he  had  been  unfaithful  to  that  sound  sense  which  gener- 
ally governed  his  actions.  "  My  only  consolation,"  he  writes, 
"in  regard  to  this  misfortune,  was  that  it  gave  me  time  to 
mature  my  acquaintance  with  my  college  friends.  The  most 
important  of  the  many  advantages  of  a  college  education  is 
the  opportunity  of  becoming  well  acquainted  with  persons  of 
one's  own  age,  and  of  forming  intimacies  with  the  best  and 
most  congenial." 

While  at  Cambridge,  he  was  appointed  Tutor  in  Mathe- 
matics and  Natural  Philosophy.  Professor  Farrar  held,  at 
that  time,  the  chief  position  in  this  department.  "  His  lec- 
tures," writes  Mr.  Emerson,  "  on  Natural  Philosophy  and 
Astronomy  I  have  never  known  surpassed  or  equalled." 

During  the  college  vacations,  Mr.  Emerson  taught  school, 
in  accordance  with  the  general  custom.  In  the  Sophomore 
year  he  was  not  well  enough  to  teach.  In  the  Junior  year 
he  took  a  school  situated  near  the  saw-mills  at  Saco,  where  he 
was  called  to  govern  as  rude  and  boisterous  a  set  of  3Toung 
people  as  could  well  be  found.  He  speaks  of  a  flame  which 
one  day  burst  from  the  windows  of  the  old  school-house,  and 
in  half  an  hour  there  was  nothing  left  but  a  handful  of  ashes. 
In  the  Senior  year  he  kept  a  school  for  ten  or  twelve  weeks 
at  Bolton,  where  he  found  pupils  wholly  to  his  taste,  who 
made  excellent  progress  and  were  worthy  of  all  commenda- 
tion. 

Such  was  his  early  experience  in  school-teaching.  He  had 
just  graduated  from  Harvard  when  he  received  a  letter  from 
President  Kirkland,  offering  him  the  position  of  master  in  an 
excellent  private  school  recently  established  in  Lancaster, 
Massachusetts,  of  which  Jared  Sparks  had  been  the  first 
teacher.  The  offer  was  accepted  ;  and  after  what  he  had  gone 
through  in  those  district  schools,  scattered  over  the  country, 
which,  during  the  winter  vacations,  had  been  under  his  care, 
it  was  a  new  aspect  of  life  to  find  himself  in  the  beautiful  vil- 
lage of  Lancaster,  and  to  enter  upon  a  school  whose  arrange- 
ments were  well  ordered.  The  academy  had  been  established 
through  the  generous  efforts  of  Richard  J.  Cleveland  and 


8 

the  friends  who  united  with  him.  At  that  time  the  number 
of  pupils  was  limited  to  twenty-five,  and  the  salary  was  five 
hundred  dollars  a  year.  He  became  so  popular  a  teacher,  and 
had  so  remarkable  a  gift  in  the  management  of  boys,  that 
applications  became  numerous,  and  the  attendance  increased 
to  forty-two  members.  Here  he  continued  for  two  years ; 
but  at  length,  overtaxed  by  constant  exertion,  his  health 
grew  feeble,  and  he  considered  it  wisest  to  accept  an  invita- 
tion he  had  received  to  become  tutor  in  the  mathematical 
department  of  Harvard  College. 

His  next  experience  as  an  instructor  was  as  head  master  of 
the  English  Classical  School,  or,  as  it  is  now  called,  the  Eng- 
lish High  School.  The  establishment  of  such  a  school  had 
long  been  felt  as  a  necessity.  Judge  Shaw  and  others  asso- 
ciated with  him  resolved  upon  a  plan  by  which  a  school 
should  be  founded,  combining  many  advantages  and  priv- 
ileges, which  would  be  the  crowning  achievement  of  our 
whole  public  school  system.  In  this  work  they  had  the 
approbation  and  assistance  of  Josiah  Quincy  and  other  promi- 
nent men,  who  determined  to  leave  nothing  undone  to  effect 
this  purpose. 

The  school,  with  its  past  history  of  fifty  years,  may  well  be 
left  to  speak  for  itself.  The  whole  community  bears  testi- 
mony to  its  worth.  The  design  of  its  founders  has  been  most 
successfully  carried  out.  Mr.  Emerson,  the  first  teacher,  im- 
parted the  right  impulse.  He  appealed  wisely  and  success- 
fully to  high  motives.  He  addressed  the  most  generous 
sentiments.  He  thought,  at  every  step,  as  much  of  character 
as  of  intellect.  "  Strive  not,''  he  said  to  his  pupils,  "  to  sur- 
pass each  other,  —  strive  rather  to  surpass  yourselves."  From 
that- day  the  work  has  been  carried  onward.  Mr.  Emerson 
left  his  impress  upon  the  school.  For  two  years  he  here 
taught,  when  lie  was  urged  with  reiterated  importunity  to 
open  a  private  school  in  the  city  for  young  ladies;  and  in 
April,  1823,  this  school,  with  thirty-two  pupils,  was  duly 
opened,  —  a  number  which  never  grew  less.  The  school  was 
acknowledged  by  all  to  be  unusually  attractive.  It  had  in 
it  nothing  superficial.  It  rested  neither  upon  formalism  nor 


routine.  Its  aim  was  thought  and  discipline  ;  while,  in  im- 
parting knowledge,  it  sought  to  lay  also  the  foundations  of 
a  character  which  would  result  in  a  worthy  life  here  and  a 
blessed  immortality  hereafter.  In  his  efforts  as  a  teacher 
he  aimed,  under  all  circumstances,  to  develop  that  which  was 
noblest,  truest,  and  best. 

But  it  was  not  simply  as  a  teacher,  or  in  the  school-room, 
that -Mr.  Emerson  exerted  his  power.  Wherever  a  company 
of  intelligent  men  were  desirous  to  disseminate  truth,  he  was 
ready  to  bear  his  part,  whether  they  moved  together  as  a  body, 
or  acted  as  individuals.  Difficulties  never  intimidated  him. 
Many  of  the  ablest  societies  in  our  community  owe  their  use- 
fulness, if  not  even  their  existence,  to  him.  In  the  works  of 
nature  he  everywhere  beheld  the  proofs  of  a  Supreme  Intelli- 
gence, and  was  grateful  if  he  could  in  any  degree  be  to  others 
the  interpreter  of  the  divine  thought.  He  felt  that  the  All- 
creative  Mind  was  forever  diffusing  light,  and  that  the  finite 
mind,  moved  by  a  kindred  spirit,  may,  according  to  its  ability, 
unite  in  the  same  work. 

One  of  the  societies  he  was  instrumental  in  forming  was 
the  Boston  Mechanics'  Institution,  the  object  of  which  was 
mutual  instruction  in  the  sciences,  as  connected  with  the 
mechanic  arts.  This  was  in  1827.  Dr.  Bovvditch  was  its  first 
President.  Judge  Story  was  one  of  the  early  lecturers. 
Daniel  Webster  delivered  an  introductory  address,  after  which 
George  B.  Emerson  followed  with  a  course  of  six  lectures. 
Webster  impressively  says  :  — 

"  God  seems  to  have  proposed  his  material  universe  as  a  standing, 
perpetual  study  to  his  intelligent  creatures  ;  where,  ever  learning,  they 
can  yet  never  learn  all;  and  if  that  material  universe  shall  last  till  man 
shall  have  discovered  all  that  is  now  unknown,  but  which,  by  the  pro- 
gressive improvement  of  his  faculties,  he  is  capable  of  knowing,  it  will 
remain  through  a  duration  beyond  human  measurement,  and  beyond 
human  comprehension." 

The  lectures  that  followed  were  an  able  exposition  of  the 
same  great  thought. 

2 


10 

Through  the  efforts  of  Mr.  Emerson,  in  1830,  an  association 
of  teachers  and  friends  of  education  was  formed,  to  take  into 
consideration  the  condition  of  the  schools,  and  to  consult 
upon  the  best  means  adapted  to  promote  their  improvement. 
This  became  known  as  the  American  Institute  of  Instruction. 
It  was  voted  that  a  memorial  should  be  prepared  by  him  and 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Governor,  with  the  request  that 
it  should  be  brought  before  the  Legislature.  In  compliance 
with  this  vote  an  elaborate  paper  was  prepared,  so  clear  in 
its  statements,  so  convincing  in  its  appeals,  so  strong  in  its 
arguments,  that  both  the  Senate  and  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives put  aside  for  the  time  all  other  business,  and  determined 
to  go  thoroughly  into  the  subject.  To  make  this  work  more 
effectual,  a  Board  of  Education  was  formed,  and  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Senate,  Horace  Mann,  who  was  acknowledged 
to  be  the  ablest  member  in  either  branch  of  the  Legislature, 
resigned  his  position  in  the  Senate,  and  was  unanimously 
chosen  Secretary  of  the  Board,  that  he  might  devote  his  whole 
attention  to  the  educational  interests  of  the  State.  One  of 
the  results  was  the  establishment  of  normal  schools,  in  which 
Mr.  Emerson  felt  a  deep  interest,  always  being  present  when 
he  could  render  service,  if  other  duties  rendered  it  possible. 
These  schools  have  now  become  intimately  associated  with 
Lexington,  Newton,  and  Bridgewater,  and  an  efficient  body 
of  teachers  has  received  therein  such  a  thorough  education 
as  has  fitted  them  in  the  best  possible  manner  for  their 
important  work. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  the  threads  in  the  web  of 
life  are,  from  time  to  time,  taken  up.  Mr.  Emerson's  old 
friend,  Edward  Everett,  who  at  college  was  tutor  in  Latin, 
and  with  whom  he  enjoyed  personal  friendship ;  now,  as  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Commonwealth,  received  his  memorial,  entering 
heartily  into  his  plans,  considering  how  they  should  best  be 
presented  to  the  Legislature,  and  how  they  could  be  made 
productive  of  the  most  desirable  results. 

About  three  years  after  leaving  Cambridge,  Mr.  Emerson 
took  a  pedestrian  journey  to  the  White  Mountains  in  company 
with  several  of  his  old  college  companions.  His  descriptions 


11 

of  this  excursion  are  graphic.  He  climbed  to  the  topmost 
summit  of  the  mountains,  where,  as  yet,  no  place  of  shelter 
had  been  erected,  and  where,  as  he  writes,  "  all  was  savage 
and  wild  and  desolate,  as  it  was  left  by  the  hand  of  its  Cre- 
ator." 

In  1874  he  gave  an  address  before  the  Society  of  Natural 
History,  on  Louis  Agassiz,  which  was  a  worthy  tribute  to 
that  remarkable  man,  whom  he  had  known  intimately  for 
twenty-seven  years,  and  for  whom  he  cherished  a  strong 
affection.  The  day  following,  he  was  requested  by  Mr.  Bouv^, 
the  President  of  the  Society,  to  furnish  a  copy  of  the  remarks 
for  the  press.  Fearing  that  what  he  had  said  was  not  worthy 
the  subject,  and  that  he  had  not  done  justice  to  his  distin- 
guished friend,  he  begged  to  be  excused  from  printing  his 
remarks.  In  the  following  letter  he  frankly  expressed  his 
views,  showing  the  modest  estimate  with  which  he  looked 
upon  his  own  work. 

No.  3  PEMBERTON  SQUARE,  Jan.  7,  1874. 
Rev.  R.  C.  WATERSTOX. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  listened  with  great  interest  and  satisfac- 
tion to  every  thing  that  was  said  last  evening  by  our  President,  Mr. 
Bouve,  and  especially  by  you,  —  to  all  except  what  was  said  by  my- 
self. That  seemed  very  poor.  Now,  will  you  not  divest  yourself  of 
the  kind  partiality  which  I  know  you  have  always  felt  towards  me,  so 
far  as  to  say  frankly  whether  what  I  read  would  not  better  be  for- 
gotten than  printed  ? 

Yours  truly, 

GEORGE  B.  EMERSON. 

Why  should  every  poor  thing  which  is  honestly  said,  be  printed  ? 

Speaking  of  Agassiz,  he  says  :  — 

"  I  found  him  the  wisest,  the  most  thoroughly  well  informed  and 
communicative,  the  most  warm-hearted,  and  the  most  modest  man  of 
science  with  whom,  personally  or  by  his  works,  I  had  ever  become 
acquainted.  The  strong  impression  he  made  on  me  was  made  on 
almost  all  who  ever  listened  to  or  even  met  him.  It  is  not  surprising 
that  the  news  of  the  death  of  Agassiz  caused  a  throb  of  anguish  in 


12 

millions  of  hearts.  Such  a  death  is  a  loss  to  mankind.  We  shall  see 
his  benignant  face  and  hear  his  winning  voice  no  more  ;  but  we  have 
before  us  his  example  and  his  works.  Let  us  dwell,  for  a  few  moments, 
on  some  features  in  his  life  and  character  as  an  inspiration  and  a  guide. 
What  a  change  has  taken  place  in  the  whole  civilized  world,  and  espe- 
cially in  this  country,  in  men's  estimation  of  the  value  and  interest  of 
natural  history  and  the  great  work  of  teaching !  To  whom  is  that  change 
more  due  than  to  Agassi z  ? 

"  He  was  endowed  by  nature  with  extraordinary  gifts.  His  fasci- 
nating eye,  his  genial  smile,  his  kindliness  and  ready  sympathy,  his 
generous  earnestness,  his  simplicity  and  absence  of  pretension,  his 
transparent  sincerity,  —  these  account  for  his  natural  eloquence  and 
persuasiveness  of  speech,  his  influence  as  a  man,  and  his  attraction 
and  power  as  a  teacher. 

"  Agassiz's  universality  of  study  and  thought  suggests  a  precious 
lesson.  It  is  never  safe  to  give  one's  self  entirely  to  one  study  or  to 
one  course  of  thought.  The  full  power  of  the  mind  cannot  be  so 
developed.  Nature  is  infinite;  and  a  small  part  of  one  kingdom  cannot 
be  understood,  however  carefully  studied,  without  some  knowledge  of 
the  rest.  Neither  must  a  man  allow  himself  to  be  a  mere  naturalist. 
Every  man  ought  to  seek  to  form  for  himself,  for  his  own  happiness 
and  enjoyment,  the  highest  character  for  intelligence,  and  for  just  and 
generous  feeling,  of  which  he  is  capable.  He  is  not  a  mere  student  of 
a  department  of  nature.  He  is  a  man  ;  he  must  make  himself  a  wise, 
generous,  and  well-informed  man,  able  to  sympathize  with  all  that  is 
most  beautiful  in  nature  and  art,  and  best  in  society.  It  would  be  a 
poor,  dull  world  if  all  men  of  talent  were  to  educate  themselves  to  be 
mere  artisaus,  mere  politicians,  or  mere  naturalists. 

'•  Agassiz  took  a  large,  comprehensive  view  of  the  whole  field  of 
natural  history.  His  thorough  education  and  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  works  of  the  highest  men  in  several  walks  made  it  possible 
for  him  to  do  it,  and  he  then  fixed  on  certain  departments,  and  for  the 
time  he  gave  himself  entirely  to  one." 

What  Mr.  Emerson  says  of  Agassiz  as  a  teacher  is  equally 
true  of  himself. 

"  His  example  has  been  inestimable:  showing  the  importance  of  the 
best  and  largest  possible  preparation ;  teaching  by  things  really  exist- 
ing and  not  by  books  ;  opening  the  eye  to  the  richness  and  beauty  of 
nature;  showing  that  there  is  no  spot, from  the  barren  sea-beach  to  the 


13 

top  of  the  mountain,  which  does  not  present  objects  attractive  to  the 
youngest  beginner,  and  worthy  of  and  rewarding  the  careful  considera- 
tion of  the  highest  intellect." 

At  different  periods  Mr.  Emerson  gave  lectures  upon  topics 
connected  with  education.  These  were  published  and  widely 
circulated.  He  discoursed  in  1831,  before  the  American 
Institute,  upon  Female  Education ;  and  in  1842  he  took 
for  his  subject  Moral  Education.  These  addresses  are 
full  of  profound  thought  and  the  most  elevated  sentiment. 
In  their  style  they  are  transparent  as  crystal ;  and  to  this 
day  they  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  been  outgrown  in  the 
many  changes  of  over  half  a  century.  In  1831  he  published, 
in  company  with  the  Hon.  William  Sullivan,  a  volume  entitled 
"The  Political  Class-Book,"  giving  a  statement  of  the  origin, 
nature,  and  use  of  political  power.  For  this  Mr.  Emerson 
prepared  a  valuable  paper  upon  Studies  for  Practical  Men. 
In  1869,  at  the  request  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society,  he  gave  a  lecture  on  Education  in  Massachusetts, 
its  Legislation  and  History,  —  full  of  important  suggestion 
and  valuable  facts.  In  1878  he  republished  a  series  of 
papers,  which  had  been  first  printed  in  the  "  Journal  of 
Education,"  entitled  "Reminiscences  of  an  Old  Teacher." 
These  gave,  in  an  interesting  manner,  many  facts  connected 
with  his  life. 

In  1830  a  number  of  gentlemen  interested  in  scientific 
pursuits  formed  the  Natural  History  Society.  This  has  since 
become  one  of  the  most  useful  and  popular  institutions  in  our 
community.  The  early  meetings  were  held  at  the  office  of 
Dr.  Walter  Channing,  Theophilus  Parsons  acting  as  Secre- 
tary. Dr.  Benjamin  D.  Greene  was  the  first  President,  while 
Dr.  Hayward,  Dr.  Ware,  Dr.  Greenwood,  Dr.  Jackson,  and 
Dr.  Augustus  A.  Gould  were  among  the  efficient  members. 
In  1837  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson  was  elected  President,  which 
office  he  held  for  six  years.  While  the  Society  was  under 
his  charge,  it  was  concluded  that  a  botanical  and  zoological 
survey  should  be  made  of  the  whole  State,  to  supplement  the 
geological  survey  by  Professor  Hitchcock,  which  had  been 


14 

authorized  by  the  Legislature  the  .year  previous.  The  shells, 
insects,  fishes,  reptiles,  and  birds,  together  with  the  plants 
and  trees  of  the  Commonwealth,  were  to  be  fully  investigated. 
Edward  Everett,  the  Governor  at  that  time,  appointed  Mr. 
Emerson  Chairman  of  the  Commission,  making  him  responsible 
for  the  various  departments.  Among  the  gentlemen  to  whom 
the  different  subjects  were  referred  were  Dr.  Harris,  Dr.  Au- 
gustus Gould,  Dr.  Storer,  Rev.  W.  B.  O.  Peabody,  of  Spring- 
field, and  Professor  Chester  Dewey,  of  the  Berkshire  Medical 
Institute,  —  all  able  men  and  in  every  way  competent  for  the 
important  work ;  while  their  elaborate  reports  were  not  only 
considered  valuable  at  the  time  when  they  were  made,  but 
are  held  to  this  day  as  authority  upon  the  subjects  of  which 
they  treat. 

These  surveys,  made  through  the  suggestion  of  the  Natural 
History  Society,  and  under  the  auspices  of  the  Legislature, 
were  of  practical  value  in  promoting  the  material  interests  of 
the  State,  and  they  gave  a  fresh  impulse  through  the  com- 
munity to  the  study  of  natural  science.  The  changes  which 
have  taken  place  in  the  scientific  world  since  the  formation 
of  the  Natural  History  Society  have  been  very  remarka- 
ble. Tastes  which  were  confined  to  a  few,  now  extensively 
prevail,  and  the  various  fields  open  for  investigation  have 
been  both  widened  and  enriched  by  the  knowledge  which 
has  been  acquired.  Geology,  almost  within  the  memory  of 
living  persons,  could  hardly  be  called  a  science,  —  now  it 
rivals  astronomy  in  the  grandeur  of  its  facts ;  while  astron- 
omy, opening  into  infinitude,  sees  all  space  kindling  with 
innumerable  stars,  and  even  the  dim-floating  nebula,  which 
to  the  unaided  eye  appears  but  a  luminous  mist,  resolves 
itself  into  planets  and  satellites  and  revolving  systems  of 
worlds.  Chemistry  has  also  made  extraordinary  progress, 
and  laid  society  everywhere  under  obligation  for  what  it 
has  achieved ;  while  botany,  that  fascinating  study,  which 
even  now  numbers  the  species  of  plants  by  hundreds  of 
thousands,  is  constantly  enlarging  its  boundaries,  exciting 
the  mind  to  fresh  wonder  by  the  wayside  and  in  the  for- 
est, along  the  borders  of  brooks  and  rivers,  and  on  the 


15 

mountain-tops  where  the  delicate  alpine  plants  delight  to 
find  a  home. 

Mr.  Emerson,  with  his  broad  sympathy,  could  not  pass  by 
any  of  the  sciences  with  indifference.  His  heart  was  large 
enough  to  embrace  them  all.  They  each  had  their  peculiar 
interests.  To  his  mind  the  kingdoms  of  nature  blended  the 
one  with  the  other ;  and  the  more  largely  his  knowledge  was 
extended,  the  greater  was  the  satisfaction  gained.  Thus,  as 
he  watched  at  night  the  brilliant  constellations  in  the  over- 
arching sky,  he  recalled  in  thought  his  astronomical  studies 
at  Cambridge,  and  declared  that  nothing  gave  him  so  much 
real  pleasure ;  and  that  he  never  looked  up  into  the  heavens 
without  experiencing  a  joy  which  no  other  object  afforded. 
Still,  life  is  too  short,  and  the  faculties  of  man  too  limited, 
to  enable  any  one  to  grasp  the  whole  domain  of  nature  or 
to  master  completely  the  entire  realm  of  knowledge.  Cir- 
cumstances have  their  inevitable  influence,  and  as  a  general 
rule  some  one  department  of  study  will  gain  a  preference. 
Hence,  from  various  causes,  botanical  researches  occupied 
much  of  Mr.  Emerson's  time  and  thought.  The  trees,  shrubs, 
plants,  and  flowers  of  New  England  held  a  prominent  place 
in  his  mind.  At  one  period  of  his  life  the  professorship  of 
Natural  History  and  the  direction  of  the  Botanical  Garden 
at  Cambridge,  in  connection  with  Harvard  University,  were 
offered  to  him,  showing  how  fully  his  tastes  were  understood 
and  his  acquirements  recognized. 

Though  he  declined  this  professorship,  the  love  of  nature 
tenaciously  clung  to  him.  His  thoughts  went  back  to  the  old 
homestead,  —  to  the  time  when  he  worked  in  his  father's 
garden  and  on  the  farm.  Trees  and  flowers  were  the  study 
of  his  childhood,  and  they  continued  to  be  his  delight  through 
advancing  years.  "  Cherish,"  said  Schiller,  "  the  dreams  of 
thy  youth."  It  was  just  those  dreams  which  Mr.  Emerson 
did  cherish.  His  sincerest  pleasure  was  in  direct  inter- 
course with  nature.  The  fields  and  the  forests  had  ever 
for  him  an  inexhaustible  beauty ;  but  such  was  his  natural 
taste  for  scientific  exactness,  that  he  was  constantly  busy  in 
the  pursuit  of  facts,  and  indefatigable  in  tracing  every  step 


16 

in  the  whole  chain  of  evidence  in  his  original  investigations. 
Cherishing  this  spirit,  the  universe  to  him  was  never  dis- 
jointed and  purposeless.  On  the  contrary,  he  found  com- 
pleteness and  harmony  everywhere.  The  external  world,  as 
he  looked  upon  it,  appeared  like  an  illuminated  missal.  Often 
he  seemed  to  be  reading — as  in  a  living  epistle  —  messages 
from  God.  As  he  traced  the  law  of  development  through  seed 
and  bud  and  plant,  he  was  brought  face  to  face  with  that 
Divine  Intelligence  which  is  alike  the  creative  spring  and 
living  soul  of  the  universe.  Such,  indeed,  were  the  dreams 
of  his  youth, — dreams  to  which  he  had  been  ceaselessly  true, 
and  which  he  devoutly  cherished  in  the  maturity  of  age. 
And  now  that  he  has  departed,  how  beautiful  is  the  thought 
that  his  memory  will  be  ever  associated  with  the  loveliest 
objects  in  nature  ! 

Familiar  as  Mr.  Emerson  was  with  both  the  agricultural 
and  botanical  products  of  New  England,  he  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  any  thing  which  might  even  appear  as  super- 
ficial. He  therefore  devoted  ten  and  twelve  weeks  through 
nine  successive  summers  to  explorations  over  the  whole 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  from  the  hills  of  Berk- 
shire to  Martha's  Vineyard,  and  from  the  banks  of  the 
Merrimac  to  the  shores  of  Narragansett  Bay,  while  he  pene- 
trated through  all  the  adjoining  States  and  left  nothing 
undone  which  might  add  to  the  value  of  his  investigations. 
The  full  report,  published  by  order  of  the  Legislature,  in 
1846,  was  widely  welcomed,  and  after  the  lapse  of  a  quarter 
of  a  century  it  still  retains  its  popularity ;  while  the  recog- 
nition of  its  literary  merit  and  its  substantial  worth  will  cause 
it  to  be  handed  down  from  one  generation  to  another.  And 
this  may  be  true  even  though  other  able  reports  should  be 
written  to  meet  progressive  requirements. 

One  of  the  last  labors  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life  was  carefully 
to  revise  the  whole  work,  sparing  no  expense  to  have  its 
information  complete  down  to  that  time,  and  its  illustrations 
such  as  should  reflect  honor  upon  the  country.  These  vol- 
umes, for  exactness  of  knowledge,  thoroughness  of  detail, 
perfection  of  typographical  finish,  artistic  skill  and  con- 


17 

summate  genius  in  the  illustrative  drawings,  with  a  perfect 
adaptation  to  the  purpose  for  which  the  book  was  prepared, 
render  the  whole  work  a  fitting  monument  to  the  memory  of 
the  writer. 

We  remember  well  an  incident  that  occurred  at  the  time  of 
Mr.  Emerson's  researches.  The  trees  of  New  England  was 
the  subject  of  conversation;  a. theme  which  with  him  never 
became  exhausted.  He  called  attention  to  Spenser's  "Faerie 
Queene,"  and  then  turned  the  conversation  upon  Henry 
Hallam,  whose  truthfulness  in  matters  of  criticism  was  gener- 
ally beyond  question.  He  now  invited  our  thought  to  Spenser 
as  referred  to  by  Hallam  in  his  "  Introduction  to  the  Litera- 
ture of  Europe  in  the  Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seventeenth 
Centuries,"  and  cited  the  following  words  by  Hallam : 
"  Spenser  seems  to  have  been  sometimes  deficient  in  one 
attribute  of  a  great  poet,  —  the  continual  reference  to  the 
truth  of  nature.  This  objection  is  true  of  the  stanza  enumer- 
ating as  many  kinds  of  trees  as  the  poet  could  call  to  mind 
in  the  description  of  a  forest."  Hallam  then  quotes  the 
entire  stanza,  beginning, — 

"  The  sailing  pine,  the  cedar  proud  and  tall, 
The  vine-prop  elm,  the  poplar  never  dry." 

"  Every  one  knows,"  he  says,  "  that  a  natural  forest  never 
contains  such  a  variety  of  species ;  and  never  could  such  a 
medley  as  Spenser  has  brought  together  from  all  soils  and 
climates  long  exist,  even  if  planted  by  the  hands  of  man." 

Mr.  Emerson  was  familiar  with  a  natural  forest  within  a 
few  miles  of  Boston,  where  every  tree  named  by  Spenser 
stands  both  firm  and  in  good  condition.  In  Europe  all  these 
trees  might  not  be  found  in  near  companionship  ;  but  in  New 
England  they  illustrate  the  poet  and  verify  his  truth.  If 
Henry  Hallam  had  been  here,  it  might  have  impressed  him 
strangely,  and  his  superfluous  comment  on  Spenser  could 
have  been  spared. 

Mr.  Thomas  T.  Bouve",  President  of  the  Society  of  Natural 
History,  in  paying  a  just  tribute  to  Mr.  Emerson,  dwells 
upon  his  services  rendered  to  the  State,  and  among  these, 

3 


18 

speaks  of  the  exceeding  value  of  his  botanical  labors.     He 
writes :  — 

"  The  Report  is  not  only  admirable  in  its  scientific  features,  but 
is  most  charming  from  a  literary  point  of  view.  It  takes  one  out  with 
the  writer  into  the  fields  and  woods,  and  makes  the  reader  at  once 
the  interested  student  and  the  personal  friend,  so  to  speak,  of  the  tree 
or  shrub  which  the  writer  may  be  describing  at  the  time." 

Mr.  Emerson's  remarks  upon  our  forests,  their  uses,  and 
the  importance  of  their  preservation,  are  of  peculiar  interest 
and  value,  especially  at  this  time,  when  often,  through  culpa- 
ble neglect  and  carelessness,  thousands  of  acres  are  swept 
away  by  fires,  covering  with  desolation  vast  regions  of  coun- 
try. Wholly  aside  from  the  attractive  beauty  of  our  forests, 
they  have  an  immense  effect  upon  soil  and  climate  and  atmos- 
phere. Their  influence  upon  the  electric  forces,  and  the 
amount  of  rain-falls,  affecting  seriousl}'  brooks  and  rivers,  is 
far  beyond  the  general  estimation.  All  that  Mr.  Emerson  says 
under  this  head  is  of  incalculable  importance,  and  fortunate 
will  it  be  for  the  country  if  his  words  of  warning  are  heeded. 

In  the  spacious  building  of  the  Society  of  Natural  History 
one  of  the  leading  attractions  is  the  Botanical  Department, 
containing  over  fifty  thousand  specimens.  Mr.  Emerson 
contributed  to  this  collection  not  only  valuable  botanical 
works,  but  a  complete  set  of  the  illustrations  from  the  last 
edition  of  his  work.  These  were  selected  from  the  best 
impressions,  and  appropriately  framed.  In  tins  hall  and 
gallery  Mr.  Edward  T.  Bouve  has  arranged  several  hundred 
admirable  specimens  of  the  wood,  the  leaves,  the  flowers, 
and  the  fruits  of  New  England.  Nothing  can  surpass  the 
skill  and  taste  manifested  throughout  the  whole  arrangement. 
The  fibres  and  tissues  and  whole  structure  may  here  be  seen. 
Transverse  sections  of  each  tree  are  given.  Here  the  methods 
of  growth  may  be  traced  and  individual  peculiarities  exam- 
ined, and  each  student  may  pursue  his  investigations  to  the 
greatest  possible  advantage.  The  delight  which  Mr.  Emer- 
son's extended  Report  awakened,  led,  as  one  of  its  results, 
to  the  careful  gathering  of  these  specimens,  and  to  tbeir 


19 

exquisite  preparation  and  careful  scientific  arrangement.  The 
sections  of  wood  are  so  artistically  cut  and  polished,  that  the 
internal  structure  becomes,  as  it  were,  transparent,  through 
this  lifelike  presentation.  This  collection,  embracing  even 
now  nearly  every  plant  and  tree  of  New  England,  in  the 
order  in  which  Mr.  Emerson  describes  them,  is  in  itself  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  tributes  any  book  could  receive.  The 
following  letters  from  the  father  and  son  will  add  whatever 
further  information  may  be  needed  ;  while  they  also  prove 
the  deep  gratification  thus  imparted  to  Mr.  Emerson,  and  the 
heartiness  of  his  thanks  for  what  had  been  done. 

BOSTON,  Jan.  28,  1882. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  WATERSTON, —  Father  tells  me  that  you  desire  to 
know  the  connection  which  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson  had  with  the  col- 
lection, at  the  rooms  of  the  Society  of  Natural  History,  of  the  speci- 
mens representing  the  woody  plants  of  New  England.  In  order  to 
give  you  a  just  idea  of  the  matter,  I  shall  have  to  go  back  some  time, 
and  say  that  a  number  of  years  ago  father  suggested  to  me  the  collec- 
tion, and  preparation  for  a  cabinet,  of  the  woods  of  the  Massachusetts 
trees  and  shrubs.  This  suggestion  I  at  once  commenced  to  act  upon ; 
and,  taking  Mr.  Emerson's  most  delightful  Report  for  a  text-book, 
I  soon  found  myself  deeply  interested  in  making  a  full  collection,  not 
only  of  the  woods  of  different  trees,  but  of  every  thing  necessary  to 
the  foundation  of  a  complete  herbarium ;  that  is,  of  course,  the  leaves, 
flowers,  and  fruit  of  the  various  species. 

I  began  to  do  this  for  myself,  but  father  soon  spoke  of  something 
that  he  wished  might  be  done  for  the  Society,  in  a  way  that  was,  I 
think,  novel  in  this  country ;  that  is,  the  arrangement  of  an  herbarium 
to  comprise  the  woody  plants  of  New  England,  so  that  they  might  be 
seen  and  studied  by  visitors  to  the  Museum,  in  exhibition  cases  like 
the  other  collections. 

In  accordance  with  his  desire  I  immediately  began  work  upon  such 
a  collection  in  connection  with  the  preparation  of  the  woods  themselves, 
and  have  for  the  past  few  years  been  engaged,  as  time  allowed,  in 
gathering  through  the  summer,  and  arranging  and  mounting  under 
glass  in  winter,  such  specimens  as  I  have  been  able  to  obtain. 

Father  early  told  Mr.  Emerson  of  what  had  been  done,  informing 
him  of  my  strong  desire  to  illustrate,  so  to  speak,  his  "  Report  on  the 
Trees  and  Shrubs,"  which  I  have  always  looked  upon  as  one  of  the 


20 

most  charmiug  of  books ;  and  Mr.  Emerson  was  very  much  gratified, 
both  that  the  collection  was  being  made,  and  that  it  had  reference  to 
his  own  work  so  nearly.  He  spoke  to  me  with  great  warmth  on  the 
subject  whenever  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  him,  and  testified  in 
another  way  his  interest  by  sending  to  the  Society,  to  be  placed  with 
this  collection,  a  set  of  the  superb  illustrations  to  his  new  edition  of 
the  "Trees  and  Shrubs." 

It  was  his  earnest  desire  that  I  should  be  able  to  finish  the  collec- 
tion while  he  was  yet  living,  so  that  he  could  see  it  done ;  but,  alas!  it 
was  not  possible.  My  time  is  closely  occupied,  and  I  have  been  lat- 
terly less  able  to  give  attention  to  this  work  than  it  was  in  my  power 
to  do  some  years  since.  Besides  this,  the  specimens  necessary  to  the 
completion  of  the  collection  are  rare  ones,  many  of  them  Alpine  species 
not  easily  obtainable.  I  am  unwilling  to  put  specimens  on  exhibition 
unless  I  have  collected  and  studied  them  out  myself,  thereby  feeling 
secure  of  there  being  no  mistake  as  to  identity. 

Something,  however,  is  being  done  every  year,  and  I  hope  that  the 
collection  may  be  completed  within  a  reasonable  time. 

So  far  as  this  work  at  the  Society  may  be  deemed  of  value  the 
credit  belongs  largely,  if  indirectly,  to  Mr.  Emerson,  through  the 
inspiration  derived  from  his  book ;  and  to  my  father  is  due  the  fact  of 
there  being  such  a  collection  at  the  Museum,  both  through  his  desire 
expressed  to  me  at  first,  and  through  the  continual  incitement  of  that 
interest,  that  aid,  and  that  companionship  in  rambles  after  specimens 
and  in  investigations,  which  has  been  and  is  more  delightful  to  me 
than  I  am  able  to  express. 

With  great  respect  and  very  great  regard, 
Yours  truly, 

EDWARD  T.  BOUVE. 

BOSTON,  Feb.  3,  1882. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  WATERSTON,  —  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  add  any 
thing  to  what  has  been  expressed  in  the  accompanying  letter,  which  will 
be  of  service  to  you,  beyond  stating  that  our  dear  departed  friend 
manifested  to  me  very  strongly  his  delight  in  knowing  of  the  work 
upon  which  my  son  was  engaged.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  first  taking 
him  to  the  room  where  the  collection  was  placed  on  exhibition,  and  of 
stating  to  him  that  though  it  was  intended  to  embrace  all  New  Eng- 
land species,  yet  my  son  and  myself  had  been  led  to  its  formation  by 
the  desire  to  have  his  grand  work  on  the  "  Trees  and  Shrubs  of 
Massachusetts"  illustrated  by  natural  specimens,  so  that  students  of 
that  work  would  be  aided  thereby. 


21 

After  hearing  my  remarks,  and  quietly  examining  the  collection,  as 
we  were  descending  the  stairs  leading  to  the  main  hall  he  suddenly 
stopped,  and  turning  to  me  very  warmly  and  with  much  emotion,  said, 
"  Why,  I  never  had  so  great  a  compliment  paid  me."  I  think  I  quote 
his  very  words.  That  he  felt  strongly  all  he  expressed,  I  am  sure;  and 
it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  know  that  the  work  of  my  son  contrib- 
uted so  materially  to  his  happiness  even  for  a  brief  period. 

That  he  continued  to  appreciate  what  was  doing  and  had  been  done, 
was  shown,  I  think,  by  his  inviting  me  to  come  to  his  house  and  desig- 
nate what  botanical  works  from  his  library  would  be  serviceable  to  the 
Society,  and  by  the  subsequent  presentation  of  the  same. 

The  donation  was  of  great  value. 

If  what  my  son  or  myself  has  expressed  is  found  of  use  to  you  iu 
the  memorial  upon  which  you  are  engaged,  we  shall  both  be  delighted. 

And  now,  my  dear  sir,  with  assurances  of  great  respect  and  esteem, 
I  sign  myself,  as  ever, 

Your  friend, 

THOMAS  T.  BOUVE. 


In  a  letter  from  Mr.  Horace  W.  S.  Cleveland,*  of 
is  the  following  statement  respecting  Mr.  Emerson,  —  a  de- 
scription  which  brings  him  very  vividly  before  us,  and  shows 
how  strong  was  the  personal  attachment  which  grew  up 
between  himself  and  the  friends  he  most  valued. 

"  Mr.  Emerson's  friendship  with  my  parents  began  in  Lancaster, 
where  a  school  had  been  established  in  which  my  father  was  greatly 
interested.  Having  been  requested  to  select  a  teacher,  he  applied  to 
his  friend  President  Kirkland,  of  Harvard  University,  who  recom- 
mended Mr.  George  B.  Emerson.  At  his  home  in  Boston,  I  was 
always  sure  of  a  cordial  welcome  ;  and  when  at  a  distance,  he  never 
failed  to  keep  up  an  occasional  correspondence,  manifesting  always  a 
warm  interest  in  my  affairs,  and  ready  at  all  times  to  give  me  the 

*  Mr.  Horace  W.  S.  Cleveland  was  the  son  of  Captain  Richard  J.  Cleveland, 
whose  energy  of  character  was  made  known  by  his  interesting  "Narrative  of 
Voyages  and  Commercial  Enterprises,"  published  many  years  ago.  Mr.  Horace 
W.  S.  Cleveland  is  widely  known  as  Director  in  the  Adornment  of  Public 
Grounds  in  Chicago  and  other  cities.  He  is  the  author  of  a  treatise  on  Forest 
Culture,  and  has  written  ably  and  earnestly  on  the  preservation  of  our  fast- 
disappearing  forests.  Other  publications  on  kindred  subjects  he  has  given  to 
the  public,  of  great  interest  and  importance. 


22 

aid  of  friendly  counsel,  which  his  wisdom  and  experience  rendered 
most  valuable. 

"  One  of  my  earliest  works  at  that  period  was  designing  a  plan  for 
a  tract  of  land  belonging  to  him  in  Winthrop,  Massachusetts.  I  well 
remember  my  keen  sense  of  pleasure  at  his  expression  of  satisfaction 
with  the  result. 

"  As  I  grew  up,  Mr.  Emerson's  kindness  was  paternal,  especially 
during  the  frequent  absence  of  my  parents.  In  after  years,  when  I  had 
a  farm  near  Burlington,  New  Jersey,  he  paid  us  a  delightful  visit. 
Most  heartily  he  entered  into  all  my  plans  and  theories  of  horticulture, 
and  was  specially  interested  in  examining  the  trees  in  that  section  of 
the  country.  Several  very  fine  tulip-trees  excited  his  admiration,  as 
did  also  the  liquid-amber  tree,  which  grows  there  in  great  perfection. 
There  was  a  magnificent  hemlock  on  my  farm,  seventy  feet  in  height 
and  a  dense  mass  of  evergreen  foliage.  Mr.  Emerson  visited  that  tree 
daily,  examining  it  on  all  sides,  declaring  it  to  be  the  finest  specimen 
of  hemlock  he  had  ever  seen,  and  affirming  that  it  was  worth  a 
journey  from  Massachusetts  to  visit  it.  ... 

"  During  the  years  that  followed,  his  friendly  interest  continued 
undiminished  ;  and  after  my  removal  to  the  West,  and  especially  while 
I  was  engaged  on  the  construction  of  the  South  Park,  at  Chicago,  he 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  objects  I  was  trying  to  achieve,  as  if 
they  had  been  his  own  conceptions. 

"  He  twice  visited  me  during  that  period,  and  the  last  time  under 
circumstances  of  peculiar  interest.  He  was  within  a  few  months  of 
eighty  years  of  age.  He  spent  several  hours  inspecting  what  had 
been  done  and  in  discussing  my  future  plans.  It  was  a  rare  oppor- 
tunity to  converse  with  one  who  was  familiar  enough  with  forestry  to 
grasp  the  conception  of  future  results.  He  entered  into  my  ideas  of 
possibilities  where  every  thing  had  to  be  created  out  of  a  nearly  level 
prairie.  .  .  . 

"  A  new  bond  of  friendship  seemed  to  exist  between  us  in  the  sym- 
pathy of  our  tastes  for  natural  beauty,  and  the  study  of  the  laws  of 
growth.  His  letters  to  me  were  full  of  suggestive  matter,  evincing 
the  closeness  of  his  observation  and  the  justice  of  his  conclusions ;  but 
all  those  letters,  together  with  a  beautifully  bound  copy  which  he  sent 
me  of  his  'Trees  and  Shrubs  of  Massachusetts,'  were  among  the 
treasures  which  I  lost  in  the  Chicago  fire.  .  .  . 

"  Devoting  myself,  as  I  have  done,  to  the  profession  of  landscape 
gardening,  Mr.  Emerson's  interest  in  my  work  was  throughout  of 
great  aid  and  encouragement.  "When  we  finally  parted,  I  took 


23 

my  leave  of  him  with  the  conviction  that  it  was  my  last  farewell 
on  earth,  but  grateful  for  the  benediction  of  one  so  well  prepared  for 
heaven.  .  .  . 

"  Iii  regard  to  Mr.  Emerson's  work  on  the  '  Trees  and  Shrubs  of 
Massachusetts,'  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  has  exerted  a  wide-spread 
influence.  Judging  of  its  effect  upon  myself,  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
kindred  impressions  must  have  been  shared  by  very  many  readers. 
To  me  ft  was  a  revelation  which  led  me  to  look  upon  trees  with  a 
degree  of  sympathy  which  might  almost  be  termed  affection.  Perhaps 
the  descriptions  came  home  to  me  with  the  more  force,  from  the  fact 
of  my  natural  love,  and  life-long  familiarity  with  our  native  forests. 
Entirely  independent  of  its  scientific  value,  there  is  a  permanent  and 
pervading  interest  in  what  Mr.  Emerson  has  written.  Its  perusal  has 
always  with  me  the  same  refreshing  and  soothing  effect  which  the 
forest  itself  inspires.  There  is  an  influence  upon  the  mind  like  that 
exquisite  melody  which  may  be  deeply  felt,  while  the  source  of  its 
power  may  be  indescribable.  Shakespeare  speaks  of  finding  '  tongues 
in  trees ' ;  and  it  is  this  very  language  of  nature  which  the  writer  has 
caught,  the  whole  tendency  of  which  is  to  bring  the  entire  mind  into 
harmony  with  nature  itself." 

The  last  and  perfected  edition  of  Mr.  Emerson's  work  on  the 
"  Trees  and  Shrubs  of  Massachusetts  "  was  dedicated  to  Pro- 
fessor Asa  Gray,  late  President  of  the  American  Academy  of 
Arts  and  Sciences.  Professor  Gray,  in  a  tribute  to  his  friend 
at  a  meeting  of  the  Academy,  May,  1881,  said  that  the  vol- 
ume by  Mr.  Emerson  in  connection  with  the  geological 
survey  of  the  Commonwealth  is  to  be  counted  "  among  the 
best  fruits  of  that  survey." 

He  then  associates  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow  with  Mr.  Emerson, 
and  says :  — 

"  The  two  classics  of  New  England  botany  are  Dr.  Bigelow's  well- 
known  '  Flora  '  and  Mr.  Emerson's  treatise  on  the  '  Trees  and  Shrubs 
of  Massachusetts,'  both  side  issues  from  active  professional  life  ;  both 
unusually  successful  in  the  combination  of  popular  with  scientific 
treatment  of  their  subjects,  and  in  the  extent  of  their  influence  in 
this  community,  as  also  in  the  appreciation  accorded  to  them  by 
scientific  men." 


24 

Alluding  to  the  progress  which  had  been  made  in  the 
natural  sciences  during  Mr.  Emerson's  lifetime,  the  deeper 
and  larger  questions  which  had  been  dealt  with  by  new 
methods  and  exacter  researches,  Professor  Gray  adds :  - 

"  To  the  advance  that  has  been  made  within  the  last  forty  years 
and  more,  Mr.  Emerson's  helping  hand  and  his  weighty  influence  have 
largely  contributed." 

From  so  exact  a  scholar,  and  one  of  such  unquestioned 
authority,  no  added  commendation  is  needed. 

Soon  after  the  new  building  connected  with  the  Society  of 
Natural  History  had  been  completed,  and  the  dedicatory  ser- 
vices had  taken  place,  a  new  proposition  was  brought  forward. 
The  purpose  was  publicly  urged  to  make  this  institution 
more  emphatically  an  educational  power  in  the  community. 
There  were  members  of  the  Society,  among  whom  was  Mr. 
George  B.  Emerson,  who  were  not  satisfied  that  these  rare 
collections  should  be  left  to  yield  only  a  momentary  gratifica- 
tion, to  be  considered  as  mere  curiosities  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  a  passing  hour.  They  felt  rather  that  they  should 
be  studied  as  the  monuments  of  past  ages,  the  authentic 
record  of  a  world's  history  ;  that  teachers  especially  should 
have  here  every  opportunity  for  study ;  and  that  lectures 
from  the  ablest  men  should  aid  their  investigations,  present- 
ing every  advantage  by  which  their  pupils  should  receive  the 
benefit. 

This  movement  led  to  a  series  of  lectures  by  eminent  men 
of  science,  who,  aided  by  the  invaluable  specimens  here 
arranged,  were  listened  to  with  profound  interest  by  more 
than  six  hundred  teachers ;  and  one  may  realize  how  wide 
must  have  been  the  influence  thus  exerted,  when  it  is  remem- 
bered that  twenty-seven  thousand  children  were  under  the 
daily  care  of  the  teachers  thus  assembled. 

Professors  Jeffries  Wyman,  William  B.  Rogers,  Augustus 
A.  Gould,  Asa  Gray,  were  among  those  who  lectured ;  and  at 
the  introductory  meeting  the  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth, 
John  A.  Andrew ;  the  Mayor  of  the  City,  F.  W.  Lincoln  ; 


25 

and  President  Hill,  of  Harvard  University,  made  impressive 
remarks.  The  ablest  scientific  men  in  the  country  gave 
to  this  movement  their  most  cordial  support.  It  is  a  great 
satisfaction  to  know  that  the  effort  made  at  that  time  ex- 
erts an  unabated  influence  to  this  day.  It  was  the  inaugura- 
tion of  a  new  instrumentality,  and  the  interest  deepens  as 
time  goes  by.  So  strong  is  the  conviction  of  its  utility,  and 
the  demand  for  instruction  is  so  great,  that  a  portion  of  the 
Lowell  Fund  has  been  generously  appropriated  to  carry  on 
the  work. 

Mr.  Emerson  had  the  strongest  sympathy  with  the  whole 
movement.  He  took  part  in  the  introductory  meeting.  His 
letter  accepting  the  invitation  is  so  cordial  and  modest,  that  it 
seems  like  hearing  his  voice  once  more  to  read  it. 

3  PEMBERTON  SQUARE,  March  16,  1865. 
Rev.  R.  G.  WATERSTON. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  Your  very  kind  note  of  the  12th  came  to  me 
yesterday. 

In  behalf  of  the  teachers,  whose  elder  brother  I  am,  I  thank  you 
for  the  interest  you  have  shown  in  them,  and  at  the  same  time  I  would 
thank  you  for  doing  so  much  to  bring  the  subject  of  Natural  History 
prominently  forward  as  something  to  be  thought  of  by  teachers.  I  be- 
lieve that  one  of  the  defects  of  teaching  at  present  is  in  the  neglect  of  it. 

The  programme  of  lectures  is  excellent ;  indeed,  it  could  not  be  im- 
proved. The  rich  and  accurate  stores  of  knowledge  of  Wyman  and 
Gould,  and  the  ready  eloquence  of  Rogers,  give  promise  of  very 
attractive  and  valuable  lectures.  I  have  never  heard  Mr.  Scudder. 

I  shall  endeavor  to  be  present  at  the  place  and  hour  you  indicate, 
and  mean  to  come  prepared  to  speak  if  it  should  seem  desirable.  My 
organ  of  language  is  so  poor,  that  I  always  find  it  better  to  say  nothing, 
if  others  can  be  persuaded  to  speak  upon  the  subject  I  have  been 
revolving;  especially  if  I  can  have  an  opportunity  of  suggesting 
thoughts  in  conversation. 

Very  truly  yours, 

GEO.  B.  EMERSON. 

Mr.  Emerson's  convictions  in  regard  to  the  teaching  of 
Natural  History  will  find  best  expression  through  his  own 
words :  — 


26 

"  The  relation  between  the  mind  of  man  and  the  universe  in  which 
he  is  placed  by  the  Creator  of  both,  is  established  for  wise  purposes, 
which  it  becomes  us  to  inquire  into  and  reverence.  The  volume  of 
nature,  with  its  infinite  variety,  is  spread  out  before  the  opening  eye, 
every  page  teeming  with  interest,  inviting  and  rewarding  inquiry. 
Every  object  is  full  of  beauty,  every  sound  has  an  echo  in  the  heart  of 
a  child.  Its  simplest  elements  are  level  with  the  meanest  capacity, 
and  can  be  grasped  by  the  weakest  hand  ;  while  its  exhaustless  abun- 
dance fills  the  most  mature  mind  and  taxes  the  strongest." 

And  then,  not  willing  to  confine  either  himself  or  others  to 
any  narrow  field  of  inquiry,  he  adds :  — 

"  Study  plants,  birds,  shells,  rocks,  any  thing  that  is  God's  work- 
manship. Do  not  for  a  moment  think  that  the  study  of  his  works, 
pursued  in  a  right  spirit,  can  fail  to  bring  you  nearer  to  Him." 

These  lectures,  commenced  by  the  Society  of  Natural  His- 
tory eighteen  years  ago,  with  the  apprehension  on  the  part 
of  many  that  they  would  probably  endure  but  for  a  very 
brief  period,  never,  in  fact,  have  been  so  prosperous  as  at 
present ;  and  now  that  so  large  a  number  of  able  teachers 
give  practical  evidence  of  their  attractive  power,  it  is  doubly 
pleasant  to  recall  Mr.  Emerson's  interest  in  their  inaugura- 
tion, and  the  earnest  manner  in  which  he  gave  them  both  his 
sympathy  and  support. 

The  world  upon  which  George  B.  Emerson  entered  in 
1797  can  hardly  be  considered  the  same  as  that  from  which 
he  departed  in  1881,  so  vast  and  rapid  had  been  the  advance- 
ment in  nearly  every  phase  of  society.  During  this  period 
a  nobler  type  of  civilization  was  developing  itself.  An  un- 
precedented activity  was  perceptible  on  every  side.*  Hardly 
a  clay  elapsed  without  some  scientific  or  mechanical  discovery. 
The  realms  of  space  were  penetrated.  The  most  complex 
elements  were  analyzed.  The  upheavals  of  remotest  epochs 

*  See  in  the  Supplement  a  statement  upon  the  Growth  of  the  Country, 
Railroads,  Telegraphs,  Telephones,  Discoveries,  and  Inventions  during  Mr. 
Emerson's  lifetime. 


27 

were  read  in  the  formation  of  the  planet,  while  the  kingdoms 
of  nature,  through  every  clime,  revealed  their  secret  laws. 
The  seed  scattered  by  master  minds  had  taken  root  and  was 
fast  making  visible  its  results.  New  forms  of  industry  were 
springing  into  being,  and  the  forces  of  the  material  creation 
were  rendering  cheerful  obedience  to  the  will  of  man.  Oceans 
and  continents  were  becoming  more  and  more  closely  inter- 
woven, while  electric  thought,  annihilating  space,  encircled 
the  globe.  To-day  the  farmer  in  his  field  gathers  his  harvest 
by  machiner}-,  the  housewife  by  her  fireside  has  ways  once 
unknown  of  replenishing  her  wardrobe,  while  the  print- 
ing-press scatters  its  products  like  snow-flakes  over  the 
nations. 

Mr.  Emerson's  life,  arching  over  more  than  eighty  years  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  led  him  to  see  changes  such  as  the 
world  had  never  witnessed  before.  Under  all  these  influ- 
ences his  career  shaped  itself.  His  thoughts  in  no  small 
degree  were  thus  marked  and  moulded,  and  his  whole  life 
and  character  received  a  coloring  from  the  peculiar  incidents 
through  which  he  passed.  Not  that  he  was  the  passive 
creature  of  external  circumstances ;  but  with  his  sympathetic 
and  receptive  nature  he  was  alive  to  influences,  and  from  the 
nobler  tendencies  of  his  being  he  assimilated  what  was  best. 
That  which  was  elevating  and  enduring  became  his  nutri- 
ment, and  was  converted  into  individual  life  and  creative 
energy.  He  looked  upon  living  thought  from  whatever  quar- 
ter it  came,  studied  it,  opened  his  heart  to  it,  and  made  it 
his  own  ;  yet  he  both  reflected  and  acted  for  himself.  When 
he  studied  trees  or  flowers  it  was  to  the  forest  and  the  hill- 
side he  went.  If  at  midnight  he  was  still  engrossed  over 
Xenophon  and  Herodotus  and  the  Odyssey, —  depriving  him- 
self of  sleep  and  rest,  —  it  was  to  embody  that  fresh  knowl- 
edge and  power  which  should  aid  in  the  work  of  progress  both 
individually  and  socially.  The  impulse  of  the  century  stirred 
him,  and  he  in  turn  sought  to  extend  and  multiply  that 
impulse  over  his  time.  A  century  which  for  mental  activity 
and  scientific  achievement  has  never  been  surpassed,  found 
in  him  a  worthy  recipient  and  a  faithful  promoter. 


28 

He  felt  that  no  privilege  could  be  greater  than  to  participate 
in  such  experiences.  The  love  of  knowledge  blazed  within 
him  like  an  inextinguishable  flame  whereat  he  would  allow 
all  others  to  light  their  tapers  or  kindle  their  fire.  This  was 
a  predominating  passion ;  but  whatever  information  he  ac- 
quired he  was  eager  to  put  to  a  generous  use.  To  gain  and 
to  impart,  were  ruling  principles  of  his  life.  Two  things  to 
him  had  a  sacred  import:  to  learn  and  to  teach,  —  to  learn  all 
that  was  true  and  good,  and  to  impart  as  much  of  it  as  might 
be  in  his  power.  Quiet  in  his  manners,  considerate  and  well- 
balanced,  he  united  untiring  industry  with  an  absolute  devo- 
tion to  duty. 

To  instruct  was  a  natural  impulse  of  his  being.  He  was 
a  born  teacher.  There  seemed  to  him  no  higher  sphere  or 
holier  vocation  than  that  which  enabled  him  to  enlighten 
and  elevate  the  minds  of  others.  Thus  for  more  than  forty 
years  did  he  devote  himself  faithfully  to  his  great  work. 
In  no  merely  artificial  manner  was  that  labor  performed. 
Not  the  written  rules  of  text-books  were  his  arbitrary  guide. 
His  knowledge  was  full  of  life.  Mind  communed  with 
mind.  Enthusiasm  was  kindled,  awakening  at  the  time, 
and  leaving  behind  it,  an  indescribable  charm.  He  called 
forth  that  true  sympathy  which  binds  heart  to  heart,  and 
which,  amid  all  after  changes,  is  never  forgotten.  In  a  com- 
munity familiar  with  the  best  teachers  he  was  second  to  none. 
Gentle  and  true  in  all  he  said  and  did,  it  was  not  simply  what 
he  taught,  but  what  he  was,  that  gave  him  his  exalted 
position.  There  was  a  calm  dignity  which  made  his  presence 
attractive,  while  his  evident  sincerity  commanded  confidence 
and  respect.  His  pupils  became,  in  after  life,  scattered  widely 
over  this  country  and  in  Europe,  and  we  believe  not  one  was 
ever  known  to  speak  of  him  without  lasting  gratitude  and 
unqualified  affection. 

To  other  teachers  and  to  the  public  generally  his  words 
upon  the  subject  of  education  always  carried  great  weight 
and  were  received  with  peculiar  respect.  His  labors  in  this 
way  were  constant  and  varied,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to 
estimate  the  good  that  must  thus  have  been  accomplished. 


29 

One  great  means  of  influence  which  he  possessed,  was  the 
leading  minds  that  were  naturally  drawn  to  him,  by  whom 
and  through  whom  he,  almost  unconsciously  to  themselves,  ex- 
erted power.  Men  of  the  highest  culture,  citizens  of  the  most 
responsible  positions,  prized  his  companionship.  Probably  in 
no  community  could  a  larger  circle  of  influential  persons  be 
found  than  in  that  section  of  the  country  where  he  resided, — 
those  who  by  their  active  philanthropy  and  judicious  be- 
nevolence labored  willingly  for  the  public  good.  With  all 
such  generous  and  noble-hearted  citizens  Mr.  Emerson  was 
a  special  favorite.  They  desired  his  sympathy,  sought  his 
counsel,  and  were  eager  for  his  co-operation ;  and  no  one  was 
more  ready  to  give  both  time  and  effort,  or  to  devote  them 
more  wisely,  than  he. 

After  Mr.  Emerson  had  taught  school  for  more  than  forty 
years,  his  friends  persuaded  him  that  he  needed  rest,  and  that 
he  ought  to  visit  Europe.  Many  of  his  tastes  pointed  in  that 
direction.  His  familiarity  with  history,  science,  and  litera- 
ture must  have  given,  through  all  his  journeyings,  a  fresh  im- 
pulse to  his  mind ;  while  his  intimacy  with  both  the  ancient 
and  modern  languages  enabled  him  to  converse  freely  every- 
where with  men  of  letters,  the  artist  and  the  artisan.  Eng- 
land, France,  Germany,  Italy,  were  to  him  all  crowded  with 
interest.  We  remember  meeting  him  in  the  midst  of  these 
attractions  and  rejoicing  at  the  vigor  of  his  thought.  In  Paris 
he  gave  us  an  account  of  his  visit  to  Rome.  We  recall  the 
fact  that  he  dwelt  particularly  upon  the  Forum  and  the 
Colosseum,  describing  the  plants  and  flowers  he  had  gathered 
there,  counting  as  high  as  three  hundred.  Other  collections 
he  had  made  from  the  Campagna  and  the  Palace  of  the 
Caesars.  Four  pleasant  months  were  passed  in  Rome,  wan- 
dering through  galleries,  clambering  over  ruins,  penetrating 
catacombs,  musing  in  St.  Peter's,  and  searching  through  the 
untold  wonders  of  the  Eternal  City.  At  Naples  he  ascended 
Vesuvius,  looked  down  into  its  burning  crater,  and  off  over 
its  incomparable  view,  —  a  scene  which  seemed  like  some  spell 
of  enchantment.  He  visited  Psestum,  and  beheld  the  temples 
which  had  met  the  storms  of  twenty  centuries;  and  he  found 


30 

his  way  through  Etruscan  towns  which  have  stood  for  ages, 
and  where  the  wild  flowers  awakened  his  admiration.  He 
would  fill  his  carriage  with  plants  and  vines,  that  he  might 
have  an  opportunity,  on  returning  to  his  rooms,  of  examining 
them  more  at  leisure.  In  the  different  countries  he  visited, 
such  was  his  familiarity  with  the  languages  spoken,  and  so 
readily  did  he  adapt  himself  to  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  people,  that  they  considered  him  as  one  of  themselves 
and  almost  forgot  that  he  was  a  foreigner. 

In  visiting  Germany  he  gave  minute  examination  to  the 
schools,  watching  every  step  taken,  whether  by  teachers  or 
pupils,  day  after  day,  and  often  from  morning  to  night.  As 
one  result,  he  was  satisfied  that  the  schools  in  New  England 
had  no  reason  to  shrink  from  a  comparison  with  them. 

He  returned  from  his  foreign  travels  with  a  strengthened 
determination  to  make  himself  useful  to  others.  That  he 
was  true  to  this  purpose,  all  will  testify  who  knew  him.  To 
do  good  seemed  to  be  with  him  even  more  profoundly  than 
ever  a  prevailing  motive. 

In  1870  Mr.  Emerson,  in  company  with  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow, 
then  in  his  eighty-third  year,  visited  the  Pacific  coast. 

In  their  youth,  the  Mississippi  River  might  well  have 
appeared  almost  beyond  reach  ;  now  it  was  but  as  a  starting- 
point.  Then  the  Rocky  Mountains  seemed  inaccessible  as 
the  Himalaya ;  now,  as  their  dark  sides  were  lifted  against 
the  sky,  the  railroad  could  be  seen  winding  over  them. 
Here,  after  leaving  Cheyenne,  high  up  among  the  mountains, 
at  least  seven  thousand  feet,  is  the  plateau  known  as  Laramie 
Plain.  It  is  a  little  curious  that  the  number  of  flowering 
plants  here  is  recorded  as  three  hundred  distinct  varieties,— 
exactly  the  number  Mr.  Emerson  had  found  in  the  Colosseum 
on  his  visit  to  Italy.  What  possible  contrast  could  be  greater 
than  the  two  scenes,  —  their  aspect,  history,  and  associations! 
From  thence  the  travellers  went  to  Salt  Lake  City  and  the 
Mormon  Tabernacle.  They  visited  Council  Bluffs,  Echo 
Canyon,  crossing  the  Alkali  Plains.  They  ascended  the 
Sierra  Nevada  and  passed  down  the  western  slope.  They 


31 

were  at  San  Francisco,  Calistoga  Springs,  Sacramento,  and 
Copperopolis.  They  studied  the  characteristic  features  of 
the  redwood-trees  and  the  Sequoia  gigantea.  It  is  difficult 
to  comprehend  what  must  have  been  the  impression  made 
upon  minds  like  theirs  by  objects  so  novel  and  on  so  vast  a 
scale.  They  reached  home  without  an  accident. 

Without  dwelling,  at  present,  upon  the  Civil  War,*  which 
formed  so  momentous  an  event  during  the  latter  part  of  Mr. 
Emerson's  life,  we  will  ask  attention  to  but  one  movement 
which  was  most  beneficent  in  its  results,  and  in  which  he  was 
actively  engaged.  From  the  very  beginning  of  the  war  large 
numbers  who  had  been  slaves  were  thrown  out  of  employment 
and  needed  both  advice  and  instruction.  Promptly  through 
the  whole  North  and  West,  associations  were  formed  for  the 
aid  and  direction  of  the  freedmen.  Many  persons,  both  male 
and  female,  volunteered  as  teachers,  ready  to  leave  their  homes 
and  endure  any  hardships  if  they  could  be  of  service.  The 
chief  object  of  the  Educational  Commission  was  the  industrial, 
social,  intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  improvement  of  persons 
released  from  slavery  in  the  course  of  the  war  for  the  Union. 
Mr.  Emerson  was  from  the  commencement  of  this  movement 
intimately  associated  with  it.  He  held  the  responsible  posi- 
tion of  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Teachers,  and  in  his 
reports  he  expresses  his  views  upon  the  duties  before  them, 
and  the  result  of  what  had  been  done.  He  states  that  "the 
blacks  upon  many  of  the  plantations  had  been  deserted  by 
their  former  masters,  and  were  without  control  or  guidance. 
No  system  or  order  had  yet  been  introduced  into  their  habits 
or  their  methods  of  labor.  The  life  of  dependence  which 
they  had  so  long  led  had  unfitted  them  for  the  time,  with  few 
exceptions,  for  independent  action  on  their  own  account." 

Both  at  Port  Royal  and  the  Sea  Islands  the  work  of  in- 
struction was  carried  on  systematically  and  extensively,  and 
with  most  gratifying  success.  At  Port  Royal  Mr.  Edward 
L.  Pierce  (since  so  well  known  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 

*  See  in  the  Supplement  further  remarks  upon  this  period. 


32 

by  his  biography  of  Charles  Sumner)  acted  as  superintendent, 
with  thirty-one  teachers.  Every  thing  was  done  which  an 
enlightened  policy  and  humane  feeling  could  dictate.  Other 
teachers  were  soon  sent,  making  the  number  at  Port  Royal 
seventy-two.  From  two  to  three  thousand  children  received 
instruction  in  the  schools.  Teachers  were  also  at  work  in 
Fortress  Monroe,  at  Washington  and  Alexandria,  and  other 
places.  The  number  of  persons  ready  and  anxious  to  engage 
in  this  work  was  very  great.  Mr.  Emerson  states  in  his 
report  that  hundreds  of  letters,  had  been  received,  many 
from  persons  of  the  highest  qualifications,  desirous  to  labor 
in  so  interesting  a  field,  and  willing  to  endure  personal  hard- 
ships and  to  make  any  sacrifice.  "  It  was  soon  apparent," 
he  writes,  "  as  had  already  been  anticipated,  that  the  in- 
struction most  needed  by  the  blacks  was  not  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  school-books,  but  in  that  which  should  lead  them 
to  appreciate  the  advantage  of  civilized  life,  to  relinquish  the 
habits  and  customs  of  slavery,  and  to  learn  the  duties  and 
responsibilities  of  free  men." 

In  the  work  in  which  Mr.  Emerson  was  actively  engaged, 
more  than  a  thousand  teachers  were  employed  throughout 
the  South,  imparting  instruction  to  over  one  hundred  thou- 
sand persons,  both  young  and  old. 

During  the  memorable  period  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  may  it 
not  justly  be  said,  that  he  witnessed,  if  not  the  formation  of  a 
national  literature,  the  preliminary  steps  to  such  a  desirable 
consummation?  In  the  days  of  his  early  youth,  and  even  in 
his  advancing  manhood,  nearly  all  books  printed  or  read  in 
America  were  written  by  authors  associated  with  other  coun- 
tries. Ev^n  the  books  that  were  written  here,  were  for  the 
most  part  modelled  upon  foreign  standards.  The  leading 
minds  of  other  lands  were  naturally  the  guides  of  our  intel- 
lectual life.  History,  biography,  poetry  and  prose,  and  all 
the  different  phases  of  literature,  came  to  us  as  a  matter  of 
course  from  beyond  the  Atlantic.  The  time  had  not  yet  come 
for  an  original  growth.  The  Reformation,  the  Revival  of 
Learning,  the  "golden  age  "  of  Elizabeth,  the  men  of  sci- 


33 

ence  and  philosophy,  were  our  rich  and  abundant  resources. 
With  such  treasures  within  reach,  it  was  a  temptation  to 
reproduce  rather  than  to  create.  Through  all  nature  there  are 
separate  stages  of  growth.  Each  period  in  a  country's  history 
has  its  own  work.  First  are  the  pioneers,  by  whom  forests  are 
to  be  felled  and  lands  cleared  and  cultivated ;  then  comes 
the  promotion  of  social  order  and  the  development  of  civil 
institutions  ;  then  every  variety  of  manual  labor,  agriculture, 
traffic,  commerce ;  then  the  great  questions  of  human  rights, 
with  the  struggle  for  progress  and  freedom.  These  are  prac- 
tical problems  to  be  solved,  and  for  the  time  are  supreme. 
Native  authorship  with  original  strength  and  vigor,  kindling 
with  individual  genius,  will  ripen  in  due  time.  There  is  a 
fitting  season  for  preparation.  One  period  becomes  the 
essential  precursor  of  that  which  follows.  Down  to  the 
opening  of  the  nineteenth  century  there  was  in  this  countr}r 
all  that  answered  the  immediate  want.  But  with  the  increase 
of  intellectual  activity  came  a  new  development  of  original 
power,  a  freshness  of  imagery,  strength  of  thought,  masterly 
methods  of  presentation,  and  the  undeniable  impress  of 
creative  genius  ;  not  simply  a  transplanting  from  other  lands, 
but  the  adoption  from  various  literatures  of  whatever  ele- 
ments are  best,  with  a  new  spirit  superadded,  embracing  in 
its  comprehensiveness  both  depth  and  breadth,  breathing  the 
aroma  of  the  woods,  and  reflecting,  through  all,  the  life  and 
spirit  of  the  time.  Mr.  William  Cullen  Bryant  as  late  as 
1817,  when  Mr.  Emerson  was  twenty  years  of  age,  in  referring 
to  the  prominent  American  poets  of  that  day,  names,  in  all 
honesty,  D wight,  Barlow,  Trumbull,  Humphreys,  Clifton,  and 
Honeywood ;  and  he  speaks  of  a  Dr.  Ladd  of  Rhode  Island, 
who  was  much  celebrated  in  his  time  for  poetical  talent. 
Contrast  this  poetical  literature  with  what  has  since  become 
familiar  to  every  mind,  through  the  productions  of  Bryant, 
Dana,  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Whittier,  and  Holmes,  and  many 
others  whose  writings  are  now  as  well  known  beyond  the 
sea  as  in  our  own  land.  We  will  not  venture  to  expatiate 
upon  this  theme.  Neither  need  we  speak  of  Washington 
Irving,  or  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  or  Nathaniel  Hawthorne, 

6 


34 

unsurpassed  in  their  way ;  or  of  historians  like  Sparks,  and 
Prescott,  and  Motley,  and  Bancroft,  all  of  whom,  during  the 
life  we  are  considering,  did  a  marvellous  work  in  perfecting 
the  literature  of  their  country  and  time,  and  stamping  it  with 
a  national  character. 

It  is  understood  to  have  been  through  Mr.  Emerson's  in- 
fluence'that  his  friend,  Mr.  James  Arnold,  of  New  Bedford, 
left  the  munificent  bequest  upon  which  the  Arnold  Arbore- 
tum at  Cambridge  is  founded. 

In  1859  Mr.  Emerson  received  from  Harvard  University 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  He  was  early  elected  a  mem- 
ber of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  of  which 
through  many  years  he  continued  a  valued  associate. 

We  have  traced  his  career  through  one  of  the  most  event- 
ful periods  of  history,  and  have  seen  that  he  did  his  part  to 
secure,  both  to  the  individual  and  to  society,  the  advantage 
of  positive  knowledge.  He  united  in  all  his  studies  an  un- 
wavering love  of  truth,  with  quiet  self-control,  and  conscien- 
tious fidelity. 

These  qualities  of  his  character  have  a  yet  deeper  signifi- 
cance when  we  recur  to  his  domestic  experiences,  and  know 
how  often,  in  the  midst  of  his  many  duties,  the  sanctity  of  his 
home  was  overshadowed  by  great  bereavements.  In  1823 
Mr.  Emerson  married  Olivia,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Buck- 
min'ster,  of  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire,  and  sister  of  the 
Rev.  Joseph  Stevens  Buckminster,  one  of  the  cherished  names 
of  New  England.  Mrs.  Emerson  died  in  1832,  leaving  three 
children.  George,  the  eldest  son,  was  graduated  with  distin- 
guished honors  at  Cambridge,  in  1845;  after  spending  two 
years  in  Europe,  he  died  in  1848.  Francis,  the  second  son, 
took  his  degree  at  Harvard  in  1849,  and  died  in  1867.  The 
only  daughter,  Lucy,  survives,  and  is  the  wife  of  Judge  Lowell. 
In  1834  Mr.  Emerson  married  Mary  Flemming,  daughter  of 
the  late  William  Rotch,  of  New  Bedford,  sister  of  Mrs.  James 
Arnold,  a  name  associated,  by  Mr.  Arnold's  generous  bequest 
with  the  Cambridge  Arboretum.  In  these  events  are  suggested 


35 

to  us  joys  and  sorrows  which  imparted  added  tenderness  and 
depth  to  a  nature  that  had  faith  wisely  to  accept  them. 

After  a  life  crowded  with  usefulness,  George  B.  Emerson 
died  March  4,  1881,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty-four.  He 
had  known  the  sharp  anguish  of  being  separated  by  death 
from  those  very  dear  to  him,  but  he  had  met  even  his  severest 
bereavements  with  a  firm  trust.  Never  had  his  mind  been 
darkened  or  irnbittered  by  grief ;  rather  through  such  disci- 
pline was  his  faith  strengthened,  and  his  whole  nature  led 
into  closer  communion  with  Heaven. "  Thus  advancing  years, 
while  they  brought  incidental  feebleness,  became  associated 
also  with  accumulated  blessings,  while  he  had 

"  That  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
As  honor,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends." 

Those  who,  through  his  active  life,  had  been  his  co-workers, 
felt  deeply  his  loss  ;  while  the  young,  who  had  been  taught 
by  his  wisdom,  dwelt  fondly  upon  his  memory,  always  cherish- 
ing with  their  sacred  recollections,  a  sense  of  profound  in- 
debtedness and  grateful  affection. 

His  whole  life  had  portrayed  the  attractiveness  of  truth. 
With  clear  perceptions  and  calm  judgment  he  had  been  faith- 
ful to  his  highest  convictions.  Sincere  in  his  goodness,  each 
duty  had  been  fulfilled  with  undeviating  integrity.  Thus 
even  to  his  last  days  he  was  tranquil  and  happy.  The  kind 
Providence  that  had  watched  over  him  through  all  his  pil- 
grimage was  still  with  him  to  smooth  his  pathway,  showing 
him,  at  times,  visions  of  his  celestial  home.  With  brightest 
anticipation  did  he  pass  into  the  glorious  future :  — 

"  His  riper  age 

Marked  with  some  act  of  goodness  every  day ; 
And,  watched  by  eyes  that  loved  him,  calm  and  sage, 

Faded  his  late  declining  years  away. 
Cheerful  he  gave  his  being  up,  and  went 
To  share  the  holy  rest  that  waits  a  life  well  spent." 


SUPPLEMENT. 


INTRODUCTION. 


IN  preparing,  at  the  request  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society,  the  preceding  Memoir  of  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson, 
the  writer  adhered  closely  to  the  thread  of  the  narrative. 
Additional  statements  are  here  introduced  in  the  form  of  a 
Supplement,  some  referring  to  circumstances  and  facts  which, 
more  or  less  directly,  affected  his  career  and  tended  to  give 
a  coloring  to  his  whole  life. 

No  man  can  be  properly  understood  except  by  measuring 
him  with  the  period  in  which  he  lived.  We  must  know 
the  condition  of  society  in  which  he  acted  ;  how  it  influenced 
him,  and  how  he,  in  return,  was  affected  by  it.  No  man  is 
entirely  independent  of  existing  circumstances ;  they  all 
help  to  modify  the  character.  Some  natures  are  doubtless 
more  impressible  than  others,  and  according  to  the  quality  of 
the  mind  will  be  the  character  of  the  effect  produced.  All 
outward  circumstances  in  some  degree  act  upon  the  mind  ; 
and  the  mind,  in  its  turn,  reacts  upon  them.  Every  strong 
nature  has  a  controlling  force  which  rules  from  within,  stamp- 
ing itself  indelibly  upon  its  time.  So  also  with  the  master 
spirits  of  the  age,  the  impressions  they  receive,  and  the  influ- 
ence they  exert;  how  they  act  and  how  they  are  acted  upon, 
must  be  studied  and  understood. 

There  were  two  individuals,  most  extraordinary  in  their 
position  and  character, — one  in  the  Eastern  and  one  in  the 
Western  Hemisphere, —  who  presented  in  every  respect  the 
greatest  possible  contrast,  and  who  were  emphatically  the  ex- 
ponents of  their  time  and  of  the  hemispheres  in  which  they 
lived.  The  one  covered  the  heavens  with  a  lurid  glare  ; 
the  other  shed  over  all  a  genial  and  healthy  glow.  The  latter 


40 

had  created  for  his  country  a  new  era ;  gaining  for  its 
people  not  only  great  opportunities,  but,  above  all,  constitu- 
tional liberty.  His  life  and  the  life  of  Mr.  Emerson  met. 
They  were  interlinked,  and  those  two  lives  united  (covering 
together  one  hundred  and  forty-nine  years)  take  us  back  to 
the  period  when  the  vast  region  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  in- 
cluding the  valley  of  the  Ohio  and  the  wide  sweep  of  the 
Mississippi,  —  the  river  in  itself  over  three  thousand  miles  in 
length,  —  with  an  area  of  between  two  and  three  million 
square  miles,  together  with  the  extended  northwest,  and  the 
whole  realm  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  even  to  the  shores  of 
the  Pacific  Ocean,  was  one  unbroken  wilderness,  inhabited 
by  savage  tribes.  Those  two  lives  embrace  the  astonishing 
extreme  between  what  then  existed  and  what  we  may  now 
see.  The  whole  growth  of  the  country,  through  that  period, 
opens  to  the  thought  a  marvellous  history. 

The  life  of  a  man  resembles  in  some  respects  that  of  a 
city.  It  is  not  simply  the  crowded  streets  and  squares  t hat- 
impart  to  a  metropolis  its  interest.  The  question  will  pre- 
sent itself:  Has  it  a  history,  recollections,  traditions?  The 
settlement  known  once  as  "Trimountain,"  and  which  the 
Indians  called  "  Shawmut,"  has  it  nothing  but  a  material 
existence  ?  Is  there  no  attraction  beyond  what  meets  the 
eye,  or  is  there  a  life  reaching  into  the  past?  Why  do  men 
ask  where  Franklin  was  born,  where  Hancock  lived,  and  from 
what  church  spire  the  lantern  was  hung  that  gave  the  signal 
for  Paul  Revere's  ride  ?  Who  will  tell  us  the  position  of 
Blackstone's  farm ;  or  point  out  the  favorite  walks  of  Sir 
Henry  Vane  ;  or  bring  back  to  our  imagination  the  impas- 
sioned eloquence  of  James  Otis  and  Samuel  Adams;  or  recall 
John  Cotton  as  he  preached  here  on  market  days  at  the  old 
Thursday  lecture,  or  before  that,  for  twenty  years  and  more, 
under  the  Gothic  arches  of  St.  Botolph's,  in  Lincolnshire?  or 
are  we  carried,  in  thought,  out  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  around 
Cape  Horn,  and  along  the  Pacific  coast,  until,  in  the  far  North- 
west, we  behold  the  discovery  of  the  Columbia  River  ?  Does 
not  all  this  make  part  of  Boston,  and  add  to  the  charm  that 
binds  us  ? 


41 

What  to  us  would  be  the  little  town  of  Palos,  if  we  for- 
got that  Columbus  sailed  thence  to  discover  America  ? 

Even  Rome,  with  the  Vatican  and  St.  Peter's,  the  Coliseum 
and  the  Forum,  —  Avhat  would  it  be  without  its  shadowy 
and  majestic  past?  and  is  it  not  something  to  remember 
that  Paul  "  dwelt  there  two  whole  years  in  his  own  hired 
house  "  ? 

Following  this  Introduction  will  be  found  various  state- 
ments and  facts  bearing  more  or  less  directly  upon  the  time 
in  which  Mr.  Emerson  lived.  These,  it  is  believed,  will  serve 
to  illustrate  more  fully  the  period  with  which  he  was  identi- 
fied, while  others  may  act  as  side-lights,  bringing  out  with 
added  force  the  features  of  that  portraiture  which  it  has  been 
the  purpose  of  the  preceding  Memoir  to  delineate. 

Mr.  Emerson's  life  covered  so  large  a  portion  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  and  witnessed  such  an  unprecedented  expan- 
sion and  progress  in  the  country  and  the  age,  that  it  is  thought 
the  facts  presented  may  have  more  than  a  passing  interest. 
With  this  impression  they  have  been  brought  together,  and 
are  herewith  respectfully  presented  to  the  reader. 


NAPOLEON. 


HIS   CONQUESTS   IN  EUROPE,   AND   IMPRESSIONS   MADE 
BEYOND   THE   ATLANTIC. 


WHEN  George  B.  Emerson  was  an  infant  in  his  cradle, 
Napoleon,  with  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men,  had  landed 
in  Egypt ;  and  as  the  rising  sun  lighted  up  the  minarets  of 
Cairo  and  shone  upon  the  Pyramids,  Napoleon,  never  unmind- 
ful of  effect,  exclaimed :  "  Soldiers,  from  those  summits  forty 
centuries  are  looking  down  upon  you  ! "  After  a  desperate 
struggle  and  terrible  slaughter,  Cairo  was  taken,  and  the 
whole  of  Lower  Egypt  was  conquered.  Then  the  monuments 
of  antiquity  were  ransacked,  while  treasures  of  art  and  plun- 
der of  every  description,  as  the  trophies  of  conquest,  were 
forwarded  to  Paris.  The  "  Battle  of  the  Nile  "  followed,  in 
which  Nelson  utterly  annihilated  the  French  fleet.  To  Napo- 
leon this  was  a  terrible  disaster ;  and,  thus  cut  off  from  the 
present  possibility  of  return,  he  resolved  with  ten  thousand 
men  to  press  forward  over  the  desert  sands  into  Syria.  Here 
Gazah  (the  ancient  city  of  the  Philistines)  and  Jaffa  (the 
Joppa  of  Holy  Writ),  after  a  desperate  fight,  were  obliged  to 
surrender.  Suddenly  following  this  came  the  siege  of  Acre. 
Sir  Sydney  Smith,  who  had  been  cruising  in  the  Levant, 
united  with  the  defenders  of  Acre  ;  and  the  French,  after 
various  unsuccessful  assaults,  with  heavy  loss,  were  obliged 
to  retreat.  Napoleon,  enraged  and  bitterly  disappointed,  his 
army  suffering,  at  the  same  time,  from  famine  and  pestilence, 
to  the  best  of  his  abilit}^  made  his  way  back  to  Cairo. 

Previous  to  the  invasion  of  Egypt,  Napoleon  had  carried 
his  conquests  into  Italy;  where,  with  impetuous  fury,  he 
swept  over  the  rich  plains  of  Lombardy  and  Piedmont, 


43 

with  great  carnage  taking  rapid  possession  of  Milan,  Mantua, 
Modena,  Bologna,  Trieste,  and  Venice,  —  bringing  them  all, 
with  their  surrounding  provinces,  into  absolute  subjection. 

Such  were  the  events  of  which  Emerson  heard-  the  recital 
in  his  early  childhood  and  advancing  youth.  Those  events, 
which  were  then  the  stirring  occurrences  of  the  time,  were 
naturally  an  absorbing  topic  of  thought.  By  speedy  strides 
the  soldier  of  Corsica  became  General,  First  Consul,  and 
Emperor.  With  unparalleled  daring  and  consummate  skill, 
the  ambition  of  this  man  seemed  absolutely  boundless.  Even 
while  ruling  with  despotic  power  over  a  large  portion  of  the 
continent  of  Europe,  he  was  ever  eager  for  new  acquisitions. 
Nation  after  nation  was  humbled  at  his  feet.  Province  after 
province  was  added  to  his  empire.  Crowned  heads,  subju- 
gated by  his  advancing  armies,  were  forced  to  comply  with 
the  most  exacting  requisitions ;  yet  while  there  was  one  thing 
left  which  he  had  not  brought  wholly  under  his  sway,  his 
extended  hands  ceaselessly  grasped  for  more.  What  then 
was  to  be  expected  next,  and  what  would  be  the  end  ? 

In  the  days  of  Mr.  Emerson's  boyhood  the  Supreme  Court 
of  Massachusetts  had  two  circuits  every  year  into  Maine, 
the  judges  holding  their  court  at  York,  quite  near  to  his 
father's  dwelling,  under  whose  hospitable  roof  they  often 
passed  their  evenings  ;  where  gentlemen  distinguished  for 
their  character  and  ability  united  with  them  in  the  social 
interchange  of  thought.  How  frequently,  at  such  times,  the 
conversation  must  have  turned  upon  the  latest  news  from 
beyond  the  Atlantic,  —  some  new  country  overrun  and  con- 
quered, some  perplexed  inonarchs  dethroned,  some  additional 
dynasties  created !  Now  special  edicts  were  considered ; 
and  now  separate  deeds  came  up  for  judgment,  such  as  the 
deliberate  shooting  of  the  prisoners  at  Jaffa,  or  the  cruel 
fate  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  at  the  fortress  of  Vincennes,  or 
the  heartless  divorce  from  Josephine.  Now  the  splendor  of 
Napoleon's  genius  was  the  subject  of  remark,  his  military 
acumen,  his  administrative  and  executive  ability,  his  unend- 
ing toil,  his  unexampled  perseverance,  his  unflinching  defiance 
of  danger  ;  and  again  his  intense  and  unmitigated  selfishness, 


44 

his  unscrupulous  use  of  unworthy  means,  and  the  coldness 
and  cruelty  of  his  nature.  Now  it  was  the  potentate  and 
the  conqueror ;  and  again  it  was  the  oppressor  and  the 
despot. 

Emerson  was  fifteen  years  of  age,  preparing  for  college  at 
the  Dummer  Academy,  when  news  of  the  invasion  of  Russia 
with  from  four  to  five  hundred  thousand  men,  and  their 
speedy  and  overwhelming  defeat,  reached  this  country.  The 
fearful  conflagration  of  Moscow  seemed  to  send  the  light  of 
its  glaring  flame  across  the  ocean ;  the  piercing  winds  and 
drifting  snows  could  be  almost  heard  and  felt,  and,  with  this, 
the  groans  of  the  dying.  Three  hundred  thousand  men 
and  thirty  thousand  horses  miserably  perished.  Napoleon's 
aim  was  for  St.  Petersburg  and  the  fleet  at  Cronstadt. 
In  his  apprehension  they  were  already  his ;  all  Russia  was 
at  his  feet.  As  Napoleon  gazed  upon  Moscow  with  its 
battlements  and  towers,  he  felt  that  now  all  things  were 
within  his  grasp ;  but  as  the  flames  suddenly  burst  forth  in 
every  direction,  secretly  lighted  by  the  hands  of  the  inhab- 
itants, dooming  their  city  to  ashes  rather  than  see  it  in 
possession  of  the  enemy,  it  was  a  death-blow  to  his  anticipa- 
tions. For  him  there  was  no  shelter  and  no  relief.  The 
loss  and  the  suffering  that  followed  were  without  a  parallel 
in  history. 

One  can  imagine  Dr.  Benjamin  Allen,  the  able  master  of 
the  Academy,  calling  upon  the  boys  to  pause  in  their  studies 
of  Latin  and  Greek  while  he  related  to  them  the  facts  just  re- 
ceived. This  was  a  lesson  in  contemporaneous  history  quite 
as  important  as  any  passage  in  Homer  or  Herodotus.  And 
the  boys  afterwards,  in  the  intervals  of  play,  must  have  dwelt 
upon  these  scenes,  and  offered  their  comments  upon  these 
momentous  events.  When  Mr.  Emerson  entered  college,  he 
found  that  at  Harvard,  as  elsewhere,  there  was  no  escape 
from  the  one  engrossing  topic  which  agitated  the  public 
mind.  There  were  questions  which  many  might  ask,  but 
which  few  could  answer.  Was  the  great  empire  which  Na- 
poleon, with  such  toil  and  bloodshed,  had  gradually  built 
upward,  now  suddenly  to  collapse  and  crumble  ?  When  and 


45 

by  whom  was  its  doom  to  be  spoken  ?  What  were  to  be 
the  signs  of  this  final  overthrow?  An  impenetrable  veil 
yet  hung  over  the  whole  future.  No  hand  could  draw  it 
aside,  yet  portentous  shadows  flitted  ominously  upon  the 
curtain ! 

Power,  influence,  authority,  all  had  appeared  to  centre 
supremely  in  Napoleon.  His  vast  dominion  seemed  to  be  con- 
solidated upon  foundations  of  adamant.  He  had  exalted  the 
various  members  of  his  own  family,  conferring  upon  them  all 
the  most  commanding  positions.  His  brother  Joseph  had 
been  crowned  King  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  and  at  a  later  day 
was  appointed  King  of  Spain.  His  brother  Louis  had  been 
made  King  of  Holland.  Lucien  was  Prince  of  Canino,  while 
his  brother  Jerome  had  been  created  sovereign  of  Westphalia. 
Thus  did  Napoleon  seem  fortified  on  every  side,  while  his 
favorite  generals  had  also  been  placed  in  the  highest  possible 
positions  of  honor  and  trust ;  and,  added  to  this,  the  work  of 
aggrandizement  was  constantly  going  on.  To  gain  new  re- 
sources, other  kingdoms  must  be  won.  Thus  did  he,  unpro- 
voked, make  his  desperate  assault  upon  Russia ;  and  by  this 
fatal  movement  the  magical  spell  which  had  surrounded  him 
was  broken.  He  was  seen  to  be  no  longer  invulnerable. 

Through  all  Mr.  Emerson's  college  days,  the  eventful  expe- 
riences of  Europe  awakened  an  intense  excitement !  As  the 
slow  packet  ships  arrived,  with  how  eager  a  curiosity  must 
the  latest  news  have  been  sought!  With  men  at  Harvard 
like  Kirkland  and  Everett  and  Frisbie  and  Farrar,  and  with 
such  classmates  as  George  Bancroft  and  Caleb  Gushing  and 
Stephen  Salisbury  and  Sewall  and  May,  the  expressions 
of  opinion  upon  passing  events  must  have  merited  a  candid 
hearing. 

The  success  of  Napoleon  thus  far  had  depended  upon  his 
continued  conquests  ;  and  the  only  way  in  which  his  sovereign 
rule  could  be  sustained  was  by  pressing  into  yet  other  regions 
the  deadly  work  of  war,  all  of  which  at  length  became  so 
intolerable  that  the  allied  forces,  fully  aroused,  combined  to 
resist  it.  In  1813,  the  year  that  Emerson  entered  Harvard, 
Napoleon,  immediately  after  his  Russian  disaster,  with  incred- 


46 

ible  energy  mustered  an  army  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  men,  and  with  desperate  determination  made  his 
way  into  Germany.  There,  at  Leipsie,  was  fought  what  is 
well  known  as  the  great  "  Battle  of  Nations ;"  one  of  the 
longest,  sternest,  and  bloodiest  battles  on  record,  and  by  which 
the  French  Emperor  was  overwhelmed  in  hopeless  ruin.  In 
due  time  the  allied  forces  entered  Paris  amid  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  populace,  and  the  abdication  of  Napoleon  fol- 
lowed. 

The  little  island  of  Elba  now  became  his  appointed  home, 
from  which,  however,  within  a  twelvemonth  he  made  his 
well-known  escape.  His  sudden  reappearance  kindled  the 
French  people  into  momentary  admiration,  and  once  again 
came  the  inevitable  preparation  for  war.  Thirty  thousand 
additional  men  were  called  for,  by  whom  the  final  test  was 
to  be  made.  The  one  word  Waterloo  pronounces  the  decis- 
ive result.  As  by  the  crash  of  a  thunderbolt  the  mighty 
empire  was  shattered.  June,  1815,  witnessed  this  tremen- 
dous conclusion.  Napoleon  hastened  to  Paris,  exclaiming 
that  all  was  lost.  Speedily  upon  this  followed  his  banish- 
ment to  St.  Helena.  There  he  remained  for  six  years,  and  on 
the  5th  of  May,  1821,  died.  He  who  through  his  many 
triumphs  and  reverses  had  been  the  master  spirit  and  con- 
trolling power,  concentrating  upon  himself  every  eye,  was 
no  longer  upon  the  earth. 

On  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  that  extraordinary  career, 
thus  tragically  closed,  was  the  subject  of  universal  com- 
ment. At  his  approach  governments  had  been  overturned 
and  thrones  demolished.  Before  his  impetuous  attacks 
armies  had  been  swept  as  by  a  whirlwind ;  while  nation  after 
nation,  trembling  in  terror,  had  bowed  down  before  his 
imperious  demands.  Now  he  was  seen  rushing  amid  the 
storms  of  battle  over  the  bridge  of  Lodi ;  and  now,  with 
his  armed  hosts,  he  was  scaling  the  precipitous  passes  of  the 
Alps.  His  history  throughout  was  connected  with  human 
affairs  upon  a  colossal  scale.  Rapidity  of  movement  and 
a  dazzling  splendor  of  effect  took  the  world  constantly  by 
surprise. 


47 

Thus  for  twenty  years,  through  the  whole  formative  period 
of  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  Napoleon's  career  must  have  attracted 
to  itself  constant  attention.  It  was  a  great  drama  of  the 
nations,  presenting  itself,  scene  after  scene,  not  as  an  illusion, 
but  as  an  impressive  reality.  He  saw  one  man,  by  military 
force,  bringing  nation  after  nation  under  his  control,  until  it 
seemed  as  if  no  earthly  power  could  prevent  his  gaining 
universal  dominion.  What  a  field  was  here  for  observation ! 
what  incentives  to  thought !  How  could  any  mind  interested 
in  the  study  of  races,  of  languages,  of  institutions,  be  indiffer- 
ent to  such  extraordinary  events,  transpiring  on  so  vast  a 
scale  !  What  a  personality  was  here  !  what  capacities,  what 
characteristics,  to  be  measured  and  analyzed !  That  which 
preceded  Napoleon  and  shaped  the  way  for  him,  —  the  French 
Revolution,  —  what  did  that  spring  from,  and  what  did  it 
produce?  Then  the  first  appearance  of  Napoleon  and  his 
after  career,  —  what  did  he  propose  to  do,  and  what  did 
he  actually  accomplish  ?  how  much  of  good,  and  how  much 
of  evil  ?  Had  the  feudal  monarchies  become  outgrown,  and 
were  they  waiting  to  be  demolished  ?  Had  the  people  been 
held,  for  the  most  part,  in  abject  servitude,  and  were  they  at 
length  passionately  demanding  a  more  adequate  recognition? 
Were  there  intolerable  wrongs  to  be  redressed,  and  had  ig- 
norance and  oppression  created  bitter  animosities  and  kindled 
a  spirit  of  ungovernable  resentment,  which  were  to  be  made 
the  tools  of  a  military  despotism?  Why  were  flourishing 
regions  laid  waste,  and  populous  cities  left  in  smouldering 
ruin  ?  What  in  all  those  lands,  thus  desolated  by  war,  was 
the  condition  of  the  people  ?  How  many  questions  pressed 
upon  the  mind  for  some  honest  solution ! 

It  may  be  said  that  Europe  was  too  far  removed  from 
America  to  awaken  here  any  special  interest.  Nothing  could 
be  further  from  the  fact.  All  that  transpired  abroad  was 
closely  watched.  Every  sign  of  progress  was  hailed  with 
joy ;  each  retrograde  movement  occasioned  grief. 

One  instance  among  many  may  be  mentioned,  illustrating 
the  intense  sympathy  of  feeling  which  prevailed  ;  not  a  feel- 
ing confining  itself  to  quiet  thought,  but  seeking  public 


48 

demonstration.  When  intelligence  reached  this  country  of 
Napoleon's  overthrow,  the  citizens  of  Massachusetts,  by  a 
large  committee  chosen  for  the  purpose,  were  requested  to 
convene  at  Boston.  Large  numbers  of  people  having  assem- 
bled, thanks  were  fervently  offered  to  Almighty  God  for  "the 
world's  deliverance  from  a  cruel  despotism,"  and  (as  they 
emphatically  pronounced  it)  "  the  usurped  power  of  a  fero- 
cious military  adventurer." 

The  gentlemen  most  prominent  in  this  movement  were 
confessedly  the  ablest  men  in  the  Commonwealth,  among 
whom  were  the  Hon.  George  Cabot,  Thomas  Handasyd  Per- 
kins, John  Lowell,  William  Sullivan,  Harrison  Gray  Otis, 
Christopher  Gore,  John  Warren,  George  Bliss,  and  Samuel 
Putnam. 

Not  satisfied  with  an  individual  utterance  of  opinion  and 
with  resolutions  which  deliberately  expressed  their  views, 
they  recommended  the  observance  of  a  solemn  religious  festi- 
val commemorative  of  the  goodness  of  God  in  the  fulfilment 
of  this  great  event;  and  subsequently  the  Rev.  William  Ellery 
Channing  was  chosen  to  preach  the  discourse.  This  "solemn 
festival,"  with  accompanying  services,  took  place  at  King's 
Chapel.  On  an  occasion  of  such  public  interest  doubtless 
the  University  of  Cambridge  was  fully  represented  ;  both 
professors  and  students  would  be  present,  and  among  the 
students  no  one  more  heartily  than  Mr.  Emerson  would 
sympathize  with  a  discourse  of  such  eloquence  and  power. 

"  Shall  we  be  dumb,"  exclaimed  the  speaker,  "  amidst  the  shouts 
and  thanksgivings  of  the  world  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  us  that  other  nations 
are  blest  ?  Does  the  ocean  which  rolls  between  us  extinguish  all  the 
sympathies  which  should  bind  us  to  our  kind  ?  Can  we  hear  with 
indifference  that  the  rod  of  the  oppressor  is  broken  ?  Away  with  this 
cold  and  barbarous  selfishness  !  Nature  and  religion  abhor  it.  Nature 
and  religion  teach  us  that  we  and  all  men  are  brethren,  made  of  one 
blood,  related  to  one  Father.  They  call  us  to  lift  up  our  voices  against 
injustice  and  tyranny,  wherever  they  are  exercised  ;  and  to  exult  in  the 
liberation  of  the  oppressed,  and  the  triumphs  of  freedom  and  virtue 
through  every  region  under  heaven.  We  are  not  to  suffer  the  ties 
of  family  and  country  to  contract  our  hearts,  to  separate  us  from  our 


49 

race,  to  repress  that  diffusive  philanthropy  which  is  the  brightest 
image  man  can  bear  of  the  universal  Father.  God  intends  that  our 
sympathies  should  be  wide  and  generous.  We  read  with  emotion  the 
records  of  nations  buried  in  the  sepulchre  of  distant  ages,  the  records 
of  ancient  virtue  wresting  from  the  tyrant  his  abused  power ;  and  shall 
the  deliverance  of  contemporary  nations,  from  which  we  sprung  and 
with  which  all  our  interests  are  blended,  awaken  no  ardor,  no  gratitude, 
no  joy  ? 

"  Europe  is  free  !  Most  transporting,  most  astonishing  deliverance  ! 
How  lately  did  we  see  her  sitting  in  sackcloth  and  ashes ;  and  now  she 
is  arrayed  in  the  garments  of  praise  and  salvation.  Instead  of  the 
deep  and  stifled  groans  of  oppression,  one  general  acclamation  now 
bursts  on  us  from  all  her  tribes  and  tongues.  It  ascends  from  the 
Alps,  the  Pyrenees,  the  Apennines ;  it  issues  from  the  forests  of  the 
North ;  it  is  wafted  to  us  on  the  milder  winds  of  the  South.  In  every 
language  the  joy-inspiring  acclamation  reaches  our  ears,  The  oppressor 
is  fallen,  and  the  world  is  free" 

As  an  expression  of  his  convictions  in  regard  to  Napoleon, 
Channing  adds  :  — 

"  The  most  conspicuous  man  in  Europe  and  in  the  world  was  a 
despot,  black  with  crimes,  the  dark  features  of  whose  character  were 
not  brightened  by  a  gleam  of  virtue.  .  .  .  But  one  thing  we  know, — 
that  God  has  mercifully  interposed  and  broken  the  power  of  the  op- 
pressor. For  this  most  gracious  and  wonderful  deliverance  let  every 
heart  thank,  arid  every  tongue  praise,  him.  Most  holy,  most  merciful 
God,  thine  was  the  work  ;  thine  be  the  glory  !  Who  will  not  rejoice? 
Who  will  not  catch  and  repeat  the  acclamation,  which  flies  through  so 
many  regions,  —  The  oppressor  is  fallen,  and  the  world  is  free1?" 

This  discourse  by  William  Ellery  Channing,  delivered 
when  he  was  a  young  man  of  thirty-four,  met  with  a  hearty 
response.  At  the  close  of  the  religious  services  the  Hon. 
Christopher  Gore,  who  had  been  Governor  of  Massachusetts 
and  was  then  a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  ad- 
dfessed  the  assembly,  on  "  that  atrocious  military  despotism 
which  had  now  become  subverted,"  and  presented  a  series 
of  resolutions  which  were  unanimously  adopted.  This  meet- 
ing was  followed  by  public  demonstrations,  while  in  the 
evening  there  were  fireworks,  and  (by  a  special  resolve  of  the 

7 


50 

Legislature)  the  State  House  was  illuminated.  According  to 
the  statement  of  that  day,  "  a  vast  multitude  united  in  the 
celebration." 

The  only  purpose  here  is  to  show  with  what  interest  the 
affairs  of  Europe  were  watched,  at  that  period  of  our  history, 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  ;  that  the  movements  of  Napoleon 
were  closely  observed,  and  a  decided  estimate  formed  of  his 
character ;  and  that  a  young  man,  through  twenty  years  of  a 
thoughtful  student's  life,  could  not  but  have  gathered  some 
lessons  from  events  of  such  remarkable  import. 


WASHINGTON. 


WHAT    HE   DID    FOR    HIS    OWN   TIME,  AND    THE   AGES    WHICH 
AEE   TO    FOLLOW. 


PRECISELY  a  twelvemonth  before  young  Emerson  com- 
menced his  career,  Washington's  second  term  of  office,  as 
Chief  Magistrate  of  the  nation,  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and 
he  gave  to  the  country,  as  his  parting  henediction,  his  Farewell 
Address.  For  forty-five  years  he  had  passed  his  life  amid  the 
pressure  of  public  cares,  and  he  now  looked  forward  with  joy 
to  the  quiet  of  private  life  ;  wishing  for  the  whole  people  the 
best  blessing  and  guidance  of  that  Almighty  Ruler,  who  had 
so  wonderfully  led  them  on  and  crowned  them  with  continued 
favors.  He  then,  with  paternal  solicitude,  gave  them  his 
closing  counsels  in  words  of  such  weighty  wisdom  and  pro- 
found import  as  have  not  only  stamped  them  with  immortal- 
ity, but  rendered  them,  with  each  successive  year,  broader 
in  their  comprehensive  meaning,  and  more  precious  in  that 
spirit  which  must  always  make  them  sacred  to  every  lover  of 
his  country. 

That  Address  was  received  with  universal  favor.  Every 
mind  and  heart  was  quickened  and  touched,  while  through 
its  influence  the  whole  nation  seemed  bound  together  more 
firmly  than  ever  before.  What  had  Washington  not  done 
for  the  benefit  of  his  country  ?  what  privation  had  he  not 
endured  ?  what  trial  had  he  not  suffered  ?  As  Commander- 
in-Chief  of  the  Continental  Forces,  we  see  him  surrounded 
by  every  possible  difficulty  ;  with  an  army  to  discipline, 
organize,  create,  —  not  composed  of  veteran  troops,  fully 
equipped  and  thoroughly  drilled,  but  of  farmers,  mechanics, 
and  citizens  in  every  walk  of  life,  who  at  the  first  sound  of 


52 

alarm  had  instantly  seized  whatever  weapon  was  within 
their  reach  and  volunteered  their  services.  The  yeomanry 
rushed  from  surrounding  provinces,  not  yet  furnished  with 
the  requisites  of  war.  Tents,  food,  clothing,  and  ammunition 
were  yet  to  be  supplied.  Barrels  of  sand,  marked  as  powder, 
were  rolled  within  the  lines  to  prevent  the  men  from  being 
utterly  discouraged.  And  whom  did  these  men  propose  to 
meet  thus  ?  The  royal  forces,  who  had  enjoyed  for  long 
years  every  advantage  of  professional  discipline,  and  who 
were  abundantly  supplied  with  the  amplest  stores  which  the 
British  Empire  could  furnish  ;  while  the  commanders  of 
these  powerful  battalions  had  gained  a  life-long  experience 
in  important  service  upon  foreign  battle-fields.  Who  does 
not  recall  that  terrible  winter  of  unexampled  destitution  at 
Valley  Forge,  where  the  men  had  neither  blankets,  nor  suffi- 
cient clothing,  nor  even  shoes  to  their  feet,  their  very  foot- 
prints being  marked  with  blood  upon  the  frozen  ground  ? 
Yet  even  then,  in  the  darkest  hours,  Washington  never  lost 
heart.  Through  severest  perils  he  not  only  held  firmly  by 
his  own  courage,  but  retained  the  respect,  the  confidence, 
and  the  love  of  his  men.  In  one  instance  of  disaster  he 
exclaimed,  "  Though  the  enemy  should  succeed  in  obtain- 
ing possession  of  the  whole  Atlantic  States,  I  would  retreat 
behind  the  Alleghanies  and  bid  them  defiance  there  !  " 
Such  determination  was  inevitably  to  result  in  success  and 
triumph. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  Washington  told  the  army  that  "it 
now  only  remained  for  the  Commander-in-Chief  to  address 
himself  for  the  last  time  to  the  armies  of  the  United  States, 
and  to  bid  them  an  affectionate  and  long  farewell !  "  He 
states  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  him  "to  detail  the  hardships 
peculiarly  incident  to  their  past  service,  or  to  describe  the 
distresses  which,  in  several  instances,  have  resulted  from  the 
extremes  of  hunger  and  nakedness,  combined  with  the  rigors 
of  an  inclement  season  ;  nor  is  it  necessary  to  dwell  upon  the 
dark  side  of  our  past  affairs."  He  then  gladly  turns  to  the 
spirit  with  which  they  triumphed  over  outward  circum- 
stances, and  declares  that  "  the  unparalleled  perseverance  of 


53 

the  armies  of  the  United  States,  through  almost  every  pos- 
sible suffering  and  discouragement,  for  the  space  of  eight 
long  years,  was  little  short  of  a  standing  miracle." 

The  Commander-in-Chief  also  formally  resigned  his  com- 
mission to  Congress.  Offering  his  congratulations  at  the 
independence  and  sovereignty  which  had  been  achieved,  he 
surrendered  into  their  hands  the  trust  which  had  been  com- 
mitted to  him  eight  years  before. 

But  one  other  event  associated  with  this  period  placed  him 
yet  higher  (if  that  were  possible)  in  the  estimation  of  the 
whole  people.  The  country,  overburdened  by  its  enormous 
debt,  was  exhausted  and  bankrupt.  Its  currency  had  become 
so  far  depreciated  as  to  be  nearly  worthless,  and  the  soldiers 
had  no  prospect  of  receiving  their  dues.  Under  such  aggra- 
vating circumstances  they  had  naturally  become  exasperated. 
It  was  a  moment  not  only  of  apprehension,  but  of  great 
alarm.  At  this  most  critical  period  Washington,  like  him- 
self, was  equal  to  the  trial.  With  a  wisdom  which  never 
forsook  him,  he  magnanimously  placed  himself  between  the 
nation  and  the  army,  firmly  insisting  upon  measures  of 
equity  ;  and  in  doing  justice ,  to  both  parties,  he  reconciled 
all  who  were  concerned,  bringing  peace  and  good-will  to  the 
entire  country. 

Thus  Washington,  throughout  his  previous  career,  had  been 
the  acknowledged  centre  of  all.  He  was  the  magnetic  force 
around  which  persons  of  every  position  instinctively  rallied. 
Not  simply  as  a  military  leader  was  he  thus  recognized,  but 
also  as  a  patriot,  a  diplomatist,  and  a  statesman. 

Hostilities  had  indeed  ceased.  The  array  had  been  dis- 
banded, but  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  and  gloom  hung  over 
the  land  ;  public  credit  was  gone,  commerce  was  at  a  stand, 
trade  was  paralyzed,  the  resources  of  the  country  seemed  to 
have  become  extinguished.  Of  the  handful  of  States  each 
had  its  own  peculiarities,  and  none  seemed  willing  to  yield. 
In  regard  to  government,  it  might  almost  be  said  there  was 
none.  If  any  measures  were  recommended,  there  was  no 
power  to  enforce  them.  Under  such  circumstances  the  ques- 
tion constantly  presented  itself :  "  Is  Liberty  to  be  a  blessing 


54 

or  a  curse  ?"  The  outside  pressure  from  the  war  being  over, 
it  looked,  at  times,  as  if  all  would  fall  to  pieces.  There 
was  a  threatening  aspect  of  anarchy.  Washington  writes : 
"  It  is  the  perpetual  wish  of  my  heart  to  bind  all  parts  of 
the  Union  together  in  indissoluble  bonds."  "  What  a  tri- 
umph," he  continues,  "  for  the  advocates  of  despotism,  to 
find  that  we  are  incapable  of  governing  ourselves,  and  that 
systems  founded  on  the  basis  of  equal  liberty  are  merely 
ideal  and  fallacious !  "  "  Let  us  have,"  he  adds,  "  a  govern- 
ment by  which  our  lives,  liberties,  and  properties  will  be 
secured,  or  let  us  know  the  worst  at  once  ! "  "I  hoped," 
said  Washington,  as  he  turned  his  face  to  Mount  Vernon, 
"  to  spend  the  remainder  of  my  days  in  cultivating  the 
affections  of  good  men  and  in  the  practice  of  domestic  vir- 
tues." But  much  as  he  desired  rest  and  quietness,  he  could 
never  be  indifferent  to  the  claims  of  his  country.  The  period 
was  one  of  extreme  solicitude.  The  anxieties  of  war  had 
given  way  to  the -yet  greater  anxieties  of  peace.  The  several 
States  were  swayed  by  local  interests,  and  distracted  by 
party  jealousies.  Public  affairs  were  fast  drawing  to  a  crisis. 
"  Would  to  God,"  wrote  Washington,  "  that  wise  measures 
may  be  taken  in  time  to  avert  the  consequences  we  have  but 
too  much  reason  to  apprehend."  "  Thirteen  sovereignties," 
he  writes,  "  pulling  against  each  other,  and  all  tugging 
at  the  federal  head,  will  soon  bring  ruin  on  the  whole  !  " 
Thus  did  he  continue  to  write  and  converse  until  his  influ- 
ence in  this  direction  became  more  and  more  widely  felt. 

During  this  season  of  distrust  and  agitation  the  country 
never  lost  its  confidence  in  Washington.  He  seemed  the  one 
vital  power  which  bound  together  the  whole.  If  the  people 
could  feel  that  their  hand  was  in  his  hand,  they  were  willing 
to  be  led.  During  this  time  he  lost  no  opportunity,  by  cor- 
respondence or  consultation,  of  urging  the  subject  upon  the 
minds  of  his  countrymen,  until,  at  length,  a  somewhat  infor- 
mal consideration  of  the  question  took  place  at  Annapolis, 
which,  after  more  extended  sanction,  led  to  a  convention  of 
deputies  from  all  the  States,  convened  at  Philadelphia.  The 
necessity  for  action  would  admit  of  no  further  delay.  There 


55 

was  in  the  country  no  executive  head,  no  judiciary,  no 
organized  department  of  foreign  affairs,  and  no  department 
of  interior  administration.  Congress  was  composed  of  but  a 
single  House,  and  could  not  administer  its  own  laws.  Thus 
the  most  ordinary  obligations  of  government  could  not  be 
fulfilled.  Everything  was  radically  defective.  What  had 
answered  the  purposes  of  the  past  could  answer  no  longer. 
Yet  there  was  an  evident  want  of  harmony,  an  antagonism 
of  purpose  ;  every  shade  of  feeling  existed,  and  every  variety 
of  opinion.  Many  there  were,  who  had  their  supporters  and 
friends,  gifted  and  able,  ready  to  make  every  sacrifice,  —  men 
of  immense  intellectual  resources  and  consummate  genius,  — 
and  yet  it  was  true  what  Thomas  Jefferson  wrote  to  Wash- 
ington, "  The  confidence  of  the  whole  Union  is  centred  in 
you"  And  John  Adams,  when  Vice-President,  said  officially 
in  the  presence  of  the  Senate,  "  Were  I  blessed  with  powers 
to  do  justice  to  the  character  of  Washington,  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  increase  the  confidence  or  affection  of  his  country, 
or  make  the  smallest  addition  to  his  glory  !  "  All  the  more 
to  the  credit  of  the  people  was  the  faith  they  cherished  when 
we  recall  the  unquestionable  excellence  of  the  man.  What 
Jefferson  had  said  was  the  instinctive  conviction  of  all : 
"  His  integrity  was  the  most  pure,  his  justice  the  most  in- 
flexible, I  have  ever  known." 

With  this  prevailing  feeling  in  the  public  mind,  when  the 
Convention  came  together  and  Washington  was  chosen  its 
presiding  officer,  all  painful  apprehension  was  removed,  and 
confidence  established.  To  form  a  consolidated  government 
which  should  bind  together  thirteen  independent  republics, 
in  which  each  should  be  reasonably  free,  yet  firmly  united, 
and  in  which  might  live  a  people  self-governed  with  every 
reasonable  hope  of  continued  peace  and  prosperit\r ;  where 
order,  security,  and  freedom  might  be  firmly  established,  and 
among  foreign  nations  the  country  be  universally  recognized 
as  one  of  the  leading  powers  of  the  world  ;  —  to  accomplish  a, 
work  like  this,  required  a  remarkable  combination  of  qualities, 
—  calm  judgment,  clear  foresight,  practical  sense,  and  com- 
prehensive wisdom.  All  these  traits  were  more  or  less  exem- 


56 

plified  throughout  the  deliberations  by  as  able  a  body  of  men 
as  perhaps  this  country  has  ever  seen  brought  together.  The 
session  continued  for  four  months,  and  the  members  were  in 
deliberation  from  five  to  seven  hours  each  day.  Thomas 
Jefferson  was  at  that  time  Ambassador  in  France,  and  John 
Adams  in  England ;  but  Benjamin  Franklin  was  there,  over 
eighty  years  of  age,  and  James  Madison,  and  Gouverneur 
Morris,  and  John  Jay,  and  many  of  the  ablest  men  that 
could  be  found  in  the  country. 

Their  work  did  not  consist  in  the  transplanting  of  foreign 
codes,  and  lifting  over  the  sea  of  petrified  forms  and  customs, 
brought  into  use  in  a  past  age  and  under  a  different  order 
of  things.  With  due  reverence  for  the  past,  it  accepted  what 
was  wisest  and  best,  honoring  what  had  borne  the  test  of 
time  and  received  the  sanction  of  ages,  yet  blending  all  with 
harmonious  adaptations  to  the  fresh  wants  of  a  new  time. 
Thus  was  it  in  many  respects  like  a  creation,  adapted  to  an 
untried  order  of  things.  By  it  a  confederacy  was  exchanged 
for  a  government,  and  a  circle  of  individual  states  became  a 
nationality.  During  this  eventful  labor  the  presence  and 
approval  of  Washington  was  as  important  as  all  other  things 
combined,  to  strengthen  and  confirm  the  popular  will.  For 
this,  as  much  as  for  any  one  thing,  do  we  owe  Washington 
lasting  gratitude. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  was  duly  signed  by 
members  of  the  Convention,  and  sent  to  the  existing  Con- 
gress, by  whom  it  was  forwarded  to  the  several  States,  with 
the  request  that  State  conventions  of  the  people  should  be 
appointed  for  further  deliberation,  and  that  when  a  sufficient 
number  of  States  should  signify  their  approval  and  accept- 
ance, the  Constitution  should  be  adopted  as  the  supreme  law 
of  the  land.  These  delegates,  chosen  by  the  people  for  the 
express  purpose  of  considering  every  principle  in  the  pro- 
posed Constitution,  thoroughly  fulfilled  their  work,  after 
which  each  State  convention  transmitted  to  Congress  testi- 
monials of  the  result  at  which  they  had  arrived.  And  the 
requisite  number  having  fully  testified  their  acceptance,  in 
1788,  with  the  amendments  which  had  been  adopted,  it 


57 

became  the  acknowledged  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
under  which,  at  this  moment,  more  than  fifty  millions  of  peo- 
ple are  enjoying  the  privileges  of  prosperity  and  freedom. 
Many  of  the  ablest  minds  in  the  country  gave  their  best 
ability  to  the  perfecting  of  this  work.  Ample  honor  to  each 
one  to  whom  gratitude  is  due,  but  no  stinted  tribute  to  him 
to  whom  we  all  owe  more  than  can  be  expressed  ! 

An  important  provision  of  the  Constitution  was  the  crea- 
tion of  an  entirely  new  office  of  great  responsibility.  To  this 
office,  as  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  nation,  was  elected  George 
Washington.  There  was  but  one  mind.  No  hesitation  or 
difference  of  opinion  existed.  He  was  the  man  who  united 
every  heart,  and  who  was  chosen  by  acclamation.  With 
reluctance,  personally,  he  accepted  the  position.  He  was 
called  to  administer  a  new  form  of  government  under  en- 
tirely new  circumstances ;  to  make  direct  application  of 
principles  for  the  first  time.  All  the  various  departments  of 
government  were  to  be  organized  and  put  in  action.  One 
of  Washington's  great  faculties  consisted  in  selecting  the 
right  men  for  the  right  place,  and  in  closely  uniting  with 
himself  the  ablest  minds  in  the  country.  He  had  said  that 
he  could  but  promise  "  integrity,  firmness,  and  an  honest 
zeal."  These  he  brought,  and  much  more.  Through  un- 
ending responsibilities  and  conflicting  opinions  he  held  his 
persistent  course,  ever  faithful  in  the  minutest  particular, 
unswayed  by  prejudice,  unwavering  in  the  cause  of  right, 
with  a  broad  comprehensiveness  and  unfailing  wisdom. 

At  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  people,  Washington  was 
persuaded  to  stand  for  a  second  term  of  the  Presidency ; 
making,  at  the  close  of  his  official  service,  an  administration 
of  eight  laborious  years,  full  of  solicitude  and  care,  but 
laden  with  every  possible  advantage  to  the  country. 

This  immediately  preceded  the  life  of  George  B.  Emerson. 
It  helped  to  create  the  time  into  which  he  entered.  That 
period  was  not  only  the  precursor,  but  the  providential  season 
of  preparation  for  all  which  followed.  The  immortal  words 
of  Washington's  Farewell  Address  were  yet  warm  in  the  air. 

8 


58 

On  the  last  month  of  the  eighteenth  century  (December, 
1799),  after  a  brief  illness,  Washington's  earthl}'  existence 
ended.  Throughout  this  country  the  sorrow  was  profound, 
as  had  been  the  reverence  and  love  which  preceded  it.  It 
seemed  like  the  bereavement  of  children  at  the  loss  of  an 
honored  parent.  The  grief  was  universal  and  overpowering  ; 
while  all  that  was  noble  in  that  remarkable  character,  which 
through  fifty  exciting  years  had  held  the  attention  of  the 
people,  now  seemed  more  exalted  and  inspiring  than  ever 
before.  Not  only  in  our  own  Republic,  but  through  distant 
lands,  was  this  event  recognized. 

Napoleon  had  just  returned  from  Egypt,  bringing  with  him 
monuments  of  ancient  art,  as  the  trophies  of  his  battles. 
These  spoils  of  war  were  unveiled  with  splendid  ceremonies 
in  the  Champ  de  Mars.  Napoleon,  as  First  Consul,  issued 
the  following  order  to  the  army :  "  Washington  is  dead. 
This  great  man  fought  against  tyranny.  He  established  the 
liberty  of  his  country.  His  memory  will  always  be  dear  to 
the  French  people,  as  it  will  be  to  all  free  men  of  the  two 
worlds."  It  was  likewise  ordered  that  black  crape  should 
be  suspended,  for  ten  days,  upon  all  standards  and  flags 
throughout  the  Republic ;  also,  that  a  funeral  oration  be 
delivered  in  honor  of  Washington.  This  service  took  place 
in  the  HQtel  des  Invalides,  at  which  the  First  Consul  and 
all  the  civil  and  military  authorities  were  present. 

At  the  same  time  the  commander  of  the  British  fleet 
ordered  his  flag  at  half-mast,  in  which  the  whole  squadron, 
numbering  sixty  ships  of  the  line,  united.  Such  are  but  indi- 
cations of  that  public  respect  which  was  manifested  on  every 
side.  Rufus  King,  the  American  Minister  in  London,  wrote 
"  No  one  who  has  not  been  in  England  can  have  a  just  idea 
of  the  admiration  expressed  among  all  parties  for  General 
Washington."  Charles  James  Fox  declared  that  "  such  a 
character  is  hardly  to  be  found  upon  the  pages  of  history." 
From  every  quarter  of  the  globe  came  back  expressions  of 
sympathy  and  sorrow.  While  this  country,  for  which  he  had 
faithfully  labored,  realized,  even  more  deeply  than  during  his 
life,  how  much  the  whole  people  were  under  obligation  to 


59 

him,  and  that  the  debt  of  gratitude,  now  due  to  him,  would 
on\y  accumulate  through  coming  time.  Death  always  gives 
to  what  is  done,  and  well  done,  an  added  sanctity  ;  and  it  was 
peculiarly  so  here.  The  war  for  independence  had  been 
fought  and  won  ;  a  confederacy  had  given  place  to  a  nation- 
ality ;  a  constitution  had  been  considered,  discussed,  and 
accepted.  Two  terms  of  the  Presidency  by  the  great  leader 
had  been  fully  and  successfully  rounded  and  brought  to  a 
fitting  close;  and  now,  as  the  result  of  all,  we  had  a  Republic, 
not  in  disjointed  fragments,  but  firmly  established  on  solid 
foundations,  a  perfect  whole. 

Over  all  this  history  could  be  traced  a  guiding  Hand  and 
a  providential  care.  At  a  time  so  momentous  the  career  of 
George  B.  Emerson  commenced.  The  impressiveness  of  the 
period  continued  for  years  to  surround  him.  Many  of  the 
great  minds  that  had  worked  with  Washington,  were,  in  his 
clay,  yet  living,  —  Thomas  Jefferson  and  John  Adams,  James 
Madison,  Rufus  King,  Alexander  Hamilton,  John  Jay,  and 
many  more,  —  all  master  minds,  and  some,  even  into  advanced 
age,  still  able  to  give  encouragement  and  counsel.  Mr.  Em- 
erson's younger  days  were  in  the  midst  of  these  influences. 
He  heard  with  intense  earnestness  the  statements  of  those 
who  had  been  personally  acquainted  with  Washington,  as 
they  recounted  their  trials  and  hardships  in  the  camp,  and 
their  struggles  on  the  field  of  battle  ;  how  they  were  with 
Washington  when  he  turned  back  the  tide  of  defeat  at  Mon- 
mouth,  and  when  he  suddenly  broke  in  upon  the  enemy's 
forces  on  the  Delaware  ;  how,  wherever  he  was,  he  showed 
intrepidity,  skill,  patience,  and,  under  every  circumstance, 
unflinching  courage.  While  he  eagerly  listened,  more  and 
more  sacred  became  the  associations  connected  with  that 
wonderful  life.  As  years  passed  on,  a  feeling  of  religious 
fervor  gathered  about  the  recollections  of  that  time,  while,  as 
his  faculties  expanded,  he  studied,  with  ever-increasing  en- 
thusiasm, the  grandeur  of  a  character  so  closely  identified 
with  his  country's  history. 

It  is  related  of  Washington  Irving  that  while  he  was  yet 
a  child,  his  nurse,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  took  him  out 


60 

for  a  walk,  and  that,  meeting  General  Washington,  she  ap- 
proached him,  saying,  "  May  it  please  your  Honor,  this  child 
was  named  for  you."  The  General  paused,  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  child's  head,  and  gave  him  his  blessing.  "  The 
gentle  pressure  of  that  hand,"  writes  William  C.  Bryant, 
**  Irving  always  remembered ;  and  that  blessing,  Irving  be- 
lieved, attended  him  through  life."  "  Who  shall  say,"  he 
adds,  "  what  power  that  recollection  may  have  had  in  keeping 
him  true  to  high  and  generous  aims  ?  " 

There  is  no  tradition  that  Washington  actually  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  head  of  George  B.  Emerson,  but  it  is  per- 
haps not  claiming  too  much  to  affirm  that  his  blessing  did 
rest  there.  Who  could  contemplate  such  a  character  and  not 
feel  quickened  and  inspired  by  its  influence  ?  The  principles 
which,  abstractly  considered,  he  most  liked,  he  found  em- 
bodied in  Washington,  as  a  living  whole,  —  calmness  and 
resolution,  prudence  and  fortitude,  modesty  blended  with 
self-reliance,  courage  that  could  face  every  danger,  with  a 
perseverance  before  which  hardships  and  privations  melted 
away  ;  while,  in  that  remarkable  man,  these  characteristics 
were  blended  with  a  pervading  and  all-controlling  wisdom, 
and  subordinated  to  the  noblest  qualities, — love  of  country, 
fidelity  to  conscience,  manly  integrity,  devotion  to  duty,  and, 
under  every  circumstance,  the  recognition  of  a  Power  higher 
than  this  world,  a  divine  Arbiter  who  overrules  all  human 
events. 

Such  was  the  character  which,  alike  in  war  and  in  peace, 
won  the  love  and  the  confidence  of  the  whole  people.  It 
was  this  which  drew  so  many  towards  itself  with  magnetic 
power,  and  which,  through  all  changes,  secured  the  truest 
welfare  of  the  nation;  and  only  by  the  dissemination  of  such 
qualities  can  the  best  welfare  of  the  nation  be  perpetuated. 
Thus  was  it  that  Washington  became  a  world-wide  benefactor ; 
and  the  nearer  his  countrymen  shall  follow  him,  the  more  truly 
will  they  become  benefactors  also.  By  this  has  he  left  a  name 
to  remain  untarnished  to  the  end  of  time;  and  thus  alone  can 
we  possess  a  character  which  may  bear  the  severest  scrutiny, 
and  stand  the  test  both  of  this  life  and  of  the  life  to  come. 


61 

All  that  had  thus  far  been  accomplished,  was  but  the  intro- 
duction to  what  must  follow.  The  wide  recognition  of  popu- 
lar rights  implied  corresponding  responsibilities  and  duties. 
By  the  neglect  of  such  duties  on  the  part  of  the  people  may 
be  brought  about  "  the  ruin "  (such  were  the  words  of 
Washington),  "the  ruin  of  the  goodly  fabric  we  have  been 
erecting;  and  thus  the  fairest  prospect  of  happiness  and 
prosperity  that  ever  was  presented  to  man  will  be  lost, — 
perhaps  forever." 

"  I  am  persuaded,"  continues  Washington,  "  that  you  will 
agree  with  me  in  opinion,  that  there  is  nothing  which  can 
better  deserve  your  patronage  than  the  promotion  of  science 
and  literature.  Knowledge  is,  in  every  country,  the  surest 
basis  of  public  happiness.  In  a  country  in  which  the  meas- 
ures of  government  receive  their  impression  so  immediately 
from  the  sense  of  the  community  as  in  ours,  it  is  propor- 
tionably  essential ;  to  the  security  of  a  free  constitution  it 
contributes  in  various  ways,  by  convincing  those  who  are 
intrusted  with  the  public  administration  that  every  valuable 
end  of  government  is  best  answered  by  the  enlightened  con- 
fidence of  the  people,  and  by  teaching  the  people  themselves 
to  know  and  to  value  their  own  rights." 

In  view  of  that  possible  future  rising  before  his  own 
contemplation,  he  writes:  "It  is  universally  acknowledged 
that  the  enlarged  prospects  of  happiness,  opened  by  the  con- 
firmation of  our  independence  and  sovereignty,  almost  ex- 
ceed the  power  of  description."  "  Heaven  "  he  adds,  "  has 
crowned  all  its  other  blessings  by  giving  a  surer  opportunity 
for  political  happiness  than  any  other  nation  has  ever  been 
favored  with."  But  then  the  proportional  responsibilities 
are  recognized,  and  the  only  true  basis  of  lasting  welfare. 
tk  There  is  no  truth  more  thoroughly  established  "  (this  is 
his  language)  "  than  that  there  exists  in  the  economy  and 
course  of  nature  an  indissoluble  union  between  virtue  and 
happiness,  between  duty  and  advantage,  between  the  genuine 
maxims  of  an  honest  and  magnanimous  policy  and  the  solid 
rewards  of  public  prosperity  and  felicity."  "  The  propitious 
smiles  of  Heaven,"  he  continues,  "  can  never  be  expected  on 


62 

a  nation  that  disregards  those  eternal  rules  of  order  and  right 
which  Heaven  itself  has  ordained."  And  the  consequences 
of  our  neglect  or  fidelity,  not  only  to  ourselves  and  to 
coming  generations  here,  but  to  the  whole  world,  he  thus 
emphatically  pronounces  :  "  The  preservation  of  the  sacred 
fire  of  liberty,  and  the  destiny  of  the  republican  model  of 
government,  are  justly  considered  as  deeply,  perhaps  as 
finally,  staked  on  the  experiment  intrusted  to  the  hands  of 
the  American  people." 

The  happy  conjuncture  of  times  and  circumstances  under 
which  this  Republic  assumed  its  rank  among  the  nations  is 
thus  forcibly  presented  by  Washington  in  the  Circular  Letter 
which  he  addressed  to  the  Governors  of  the  several  States  in 
1783 :  "  The  foundation  of  our  empire  was  not  laid  in  a 
gloomy  age  of  ignorance  and  superstition,  but  at  an  epoch 
when  the  rights  of  mankind  were  better  understood,  and 
more  clearly  defined  than  at  any  former  period  ;  researches 
of  the  human  mind  after  social  happiness  have  been  carried 
to  a  great  extent  ;  the  treasures  of  knowledge,  acquired  by 
the  labors  of  philosophers,  sages,  and  legislators  through  a 
long  succession  of  years,  are  laid  open  for  us,  and  their  col- 
lected wisdom  may  be  happily  applied  in  the  establishment 
of  our  forms  of  government ;  the  free  cultivation  of  letters, 
the  unbounded  extension  of  commerce,  the  progressive  re- 
finement of  manners,  the  growing  liberality  of  sentiment,  and, 
above  all,  the  pure  and  benign  light  of  revelation,  have  had  a 
meliorating  influence  on  mankind,  and  increased  the  blessings 
of  society."  And  then,  pausing,  he  adds :  "  At  this  aus- 
picious period  the  United  States  came  into  existence  as  a 
nation ;  and  if  their  citizens  should  not  be  completely  free 
and  happ}%  the  fault  will  be  entirely  their  own." 

Washington  was  too  true  to  himself  and  his  country  not  to 
mingle  with  his  congratulations  admonitions  and  warnings. 
"  Such,"  he  said,  "  is  our  situation,  and  such  are  our  pros- 
pects. But,  notwithstanding  the  cup  of  blessing  is  thus 
reached  out  to  us,  if  we  have  the  disposition  to  make  it  our 
own ;  yet  it  appears  to  me,  there  is  an  option  still  left  to  the 
United  States  of  America,  whether  they  will  be  respectable 


63 

and  prosperous,  or  contemptible  and  miserable  as  a  nation." 
Privileges,  with  him,  implied  duties.  All  that  the  patriots  of 
the  Revolution  had  done,  all  that  the  fathers  of  the  Republic 
had  written,  must  bequeath  to  their  successors  corresponding 
responsibilities.  But  blessed  will  those  be  who  prove  true 
and  faithful.  "  Happy  "  (such  were  Washington's  words), 
"  thrice  happy  shall  they  be  pronounced  hereafter,  who  have 
contributed  anything,  who  have  performed  the  meanest  office, 
in  erecting  this  stupendous  fabric  of  freedom  and  empire,  on 
the  broad  basis  of  independency;  who  have  assisted  in  protect- 
ing the  rights  of  human  nature,  and  establishing  an  asylum 
for  the  poor  and  oppressed  of  all  nations." 

The  scholar  earnestly  responded.  A  patriotism  was  kin- 
dled in  his  heart  which  never  became  extinguished.  All 
the  finer  instincts  of  his  nature  moved  in  unison.  His  ideas 
of  duty  and  of  right  pointed  in  one  direction.  What  did 
such  a  government  as  this  presuppose,  if  not  intelligence, 
improvement,  progress  ?  Here  was  a  new  condition  of  civil 
society,  an  advanced  form  of  social  organization.  Was  it 
intended  for  a  stupid  and  stolid,  a  mean  and  mercenary 
people?  or  did  it  imply  growth  and  expansion,  —  the  develop- 
ing of  resources,  not  simply  in  connection  with  material 
wealth,  but  of  intellectual  capabilities,  of  whatever  affected 
human  thought  and  feeling,  or  touched  the  inmost  springs 
of  character?  More  and  more  deeply  did  he  feel  that  our 
institutions,  civil,  moral,  and  religious,  are  based  upon  intel- 
ligence. His  readings  of  the  past,  his  hopes  of  the  future, 
strengthened  his  conviction  that  to  render  men  properly 
capable  of  self-government,  implies  culture,  the  power  of 
thought,  the  development  of  the  nobler  faculties.  There 
is  a  susceptibility  of  goodness  which  may  be  brought  into 
action  if  properly  appealed  to ;  there  are  capacities  only 
waiting  the  right  moment  to  unfold;  truths  to  be  investi- 
gated, and  duties  to  be  performed  ;  but  the  mind  requires 
a  true  impulse  and  a  right  direction.  Mr.  Emerson  resolved 
to  devote  his  whole  life  to  the  education  of  the  people  ;  to 
aid  in  the  right  development  of  their  intellectual  and  moral 


64 

life  ;  as  far  as  might  be  in  his  power,  to  disseminate  that 
intelligence  which  is  absolutely  essential  to  the  well-being  of 
a  republic  ;  and  thus,  to  the  very  extent  of  his  ability,  to 
lay  a  worthy  foundation  for  whatever  would  most  truly 
promote  the  highest  welfare  of  his  country. 


GROWTH   OF   THE   COUNTRY. 


THE  growth  of  the  country  during  Mr.  Emerson's  life- 
time is  worthy  of  special  notice. 

The  thirteen  original  States  were  all  east  of  the  Alleghany 
Mountains.  Nowhere,  as  British  colonies,  did  they  reach  into 
the  interior  more  than  one  hundred  miles  from  the  Atlantic. 
Beyond  that  was  a  wilderness,  peopled  almost  wholly  by 
savage  tribes. 

The  French  insisted  that  the  entire  region  was  theirs. 
French  and  English  alike  put  in  their  conflicting  claims; 
while  the  former  were  taking  decided  steps  to  secure  and  sus- 
tain their  position.  They  were  drawing  their  lines  more  and 
more  closely,  until  their  movements  were  too  palpable  to  be 
passed  over  in  silence,  and  the  manifest  encroachment  could 
not  continue  to  be  wholly  overlooked. 

Only  about  forty  years  before  Mr.  Emerson's  birth,  Wash- 
ington had  been  commissioned  to  penetrate  into  that  region 
where  the  French  were  attempting  to  build  a  succession  of 
forts  which  should  form  a  line  of  military  posts  to  connect 
Louisiana  with  Canada.  He  was  to  remonstrate  against  this 
measure ;  and  his  instructions  were  to  make  himself  acquainted 
with  the  character  of  the  country.  This  journey  to  the  Ohio 
was  a  laborious  effort  of  three  months,  through  unhewn  for- 
ests, occupied  by  hostile  Indian  tribes.  The  French  declared 
that  Father  Marquette  had  passed  down  the  Mississippi  in 
a  canoe,  while  La  Salle,  in  his  wanderings,  had  seen  the 
Ohio  and  Illinois,  and  that  this  gave  to  their  country  a  title 
to  all  the  lands  between  the  Alleghany  and  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  Indians  claimed  that,  as  the 
native  occupants,  the  soil  by  right  belonged  to  them.  "  It  is 

9 


66 

ours,"  they  said,  "and  you  wish  to  steal  it  from  us."  This 
contest  was  the  commencement  of  that  struggle  which  finally 
ended  in  the  independence  of  the  United  Colonies.  Wash- 
ington's commission  was  to  proceed  to  the  Ohio  River,  con- 
vene there  the  Indian  chiefs,  and  secure  an  escort  of  warriors 
to  be  his  guides  through  the  rest  of  his  journey.  It  was  alto- 
gether a  perilous  enterprise.  But  our  principal  purpose  now 
is  to  speak  of  the  wild  and  unsubdued  character  of  the  coun- 
try. With  their  horses  they  were  obliged  to  swim  the  rivers  ; 
or  cross,  as  they  best  might,  upon  rude  rafts.  The  tangled 
forests  were  almost  impenetrable,  and  nowhere  was  the  first 
sign  of  cultivation  to  be  seen. 

A  few  years  passed  by,  and,  with  the  establishment  of  the 
Republic  on  the  basis  of  freedom,  the  progress  of  civilization 
took  a  fresh  start.  The  tide  of  population  moved  ceaselessly 
onward,  and  with  that  population,  industry,  culture,  together. 
with  all  the  multiplied  fruits  of  enterprise  and  skill.  In  due 
time  the  fertile  region  bordering  the  waters  of  the  Mononga- 
hela  and  the  Ohio  became  an  important  part  of  the  Union  ; 
and  presently,  by  rapid  expansion,  the  whole  rich  valley  of  the 
Mississippi,  larger  in  itself  than  many  of  the  empires  of  Europe, 
was  included  ;  comprising  an  area  of  2,455,000  square  miles, 
and  extending  through  at  least  thirty  degrees  of  longitude, 
—  a  realm  which  De  Tocqueville  declares  to  be  "the  most 
magnificent  dwelling-place  prepared  by  God  for  man's  abode," 
and  of  which  Benjamin  Franklin,  with  prophetic  foresight, 
pronounced,  "  In  less  than  a  century  it  must  undoubtedly 
become  a  populous  and  powerful  dominion." 

Exactly  ten  years  before  Mr.  Emerson's  birth,  the  great  Or- 
dinance for  the  Government  of  the  Northwestern  Territory 
was  passed  (1787),  which  included  all  the  region  northwest 
of  the  Ohio.  This  was  wholly,  at  that  time,  an  unreclaimed 
wilderness.  By  this  Ordinance  the  entire  territory  was  irrev- 
ocably dedicated  to  free  labor.  Out  of  this  region  were  formed 
the  five  great  States  of  Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Michigan,  and 
Wisconsin.  Mr.  Emerson  witnessed  the  result  of  this  wise  act 
of  statesmanship,  in  the  unparalleled  growth  and  prosperity 
which  followed.  Within  his  day  those  States  had  an  industri- 


67 

ous,  intelligent,  and  thrifty  population  of  over  seven  millions. 
And  if  we  include  Iowa,  Minnesota,  Missouri,  and  Kansas,  \ve 
have  a  population  of  over  twelve  millions,  with  a  fertility  of 
soil  which  yields  annually  an  amount  of  agricultural  products 
absolutely  amazing,  together  with  a  network  of  railroads 
which  brings  a  market  everywhere  closely  at  hand.  The 
State  of  Ohio  covers  an  area  of  40,000  square  miles ;  Indi- 
ana, 33,809;  Illinois,  55,405;  Michigan,  56,243;  Wisconsin, 
53,924  ;  Iowa,  55,045  ;  Minnesota,  83,530 ;  Missouri,  67,380  ; 
and  Kansas,  83,000. 

As  a  proof  of  Mr.  Emerson's  interest  in  this  new  region, 
and  the  growth  and  extension  of  the  country,  the  very  year 
following  the  completion  of  the  Pacific  and  Union  Railroad, 
in  his  seventy-third  year,  he  went  over  the  whole  road  to  the 
shores  of  the  Pacific.  He  thus  travelled  367  miles  through 
Iowa,  473  through  Nebraska,  487  through  Wyoming,  221 
through  Utah,  455  through  Nevada,  and  about  300  through 
California. 

When  he  was  forty  years  of  age,  the  first  house  had  not 
been  built  in  San  Francisco;  when  he  arrived  there,  he  found 
140,000  inhabitants,  and  an  area  of  over  30,000  acres,  covered 
with  churches,  schools,  and  colleges  ;  scientific  and  literary 
institutions,  hotels  and  hospitals,  libraries  and  reading-rooms, 
markets  and  manufactories,  with  extensive  public  grounds 
and  parks.  The  assessed  valuation  of  propert)'  was  about 
$100,000,000.  There  were  from  seventeen  to  eighteen 
thousand  buildings,  many  of  which  were  spacious  and  elegant. 
More  than  a  thousand  edifices  had  been  erected  within  the 
preceding  year.  The  United  States  Mint  has  an  important 
branch  in  this  city,  where  the  gold  and  silver  from  the  mines 
is  turned  out  as  coin.  This  was  established  in  1854.  When 
Mr.  Emerson  was  there,  it  had  coined  $240,000,000.  Bags 
and  packages  of  gold  dust,  from  thousands  of  miners,  are 
scattered  round.  Packages  of  bullion  are  sent  on  deposit;  and 
here  are  the  crucibles  in  which  the  precious  metals  are  melted, 
and  from  which  they  are  ladled  out,  while  the  shining  coins 
fresh  from  the  stamp,  are  weighed  and  sorted;  —  only  now 
waiting  to  be  scattered  through  the  community. 


68 

Richard  H.  Dana,  Jr.,  visited  the  Pacific  coast  in  the  ship 
"Alert"  (1835-36).  At  that  time,  in  his  "Two  Years  before 
the  Mast,"  he  speaks  of  entering  "  the  vast  solitude  of  the  Bay 
of  San  Francisco,"  while  of  the  shore  he  says,  it  is  a  lonely 
and  sandy  plain  without  a  dwelling.  During  the  whole  time 
of  their  stay  not  a  sail  came  or  went ;  and  only  one  vessel,  a 
Russian,  lay  there  at  anchor.  Now,  connected  with  the  popu- 
lous city  are  extensive  and  unsurpassed  accommodations  for 
shipping ;  while  between  two  and  three  thousand  vessels 
arrive  from  foreign  lands  within  the  year ;  and  ships  are  con- 
stantly sailing,  with  their  various  freightage,  to  every  part 
of  the  world ;  the  grain  shipments  alone  amounting  to  over 
$13,000,000  annually. 

But  with  all  this  wonderful  development,  few  things  could 
impress  Mr.  Emerson  more  than  the  extraordinary  aspects  of 
nature ;  with  his  love  for  flowers  and  plants,  how  could  he 
but  be  impressed  by  the  tropical  fertility  so  profusely  dis- 
played? The  earth  everywhere  seemed  but  sand;  yet  all  it 
needed  was  water  to  cause  it  to  burst  forth  into  forms  of  con- 
summate luxuriance  and  beauty.  The  fruits  were  large  and 
luscious,  the  flowers  numberless  and  superb.  The  fuchsias 
expanded  beyond  reach;  the  heliotrope  became  a  lofty  shrub; 
the  rose,  of  colossal  size,  looked  in  at  the  upper  windows; 
delicate  vines,  gorgeous  with  blossoms,  veiled  the  houses ; 
geraniums  of  deepest  scarlet,  kindled  like  a  flame,  forming 
screens  and  hedges.  The  size,  the  richness,  the  profusion, 
seemed  fabulous.  With  ample  irrigation  all  things  appeared 
possible  ;  the  very  sand  became  prolific  of  splendor.  Not  for 
a  brief  season,  but,  thus  cared  for,  through  the  whole  year, 
they  grow  and  blossom.  Then  the  trees  —  the  madrona, 
the  manzanita,  and  a  thousand  others  —  were  so  strangely 
beautiful.  But  we  must  not  dwell  upon  the  fascinating 
aspects  of  this  Pacific  coast,  extending  its  seven  hundred 
miles  along  the  ocean,  and  its  two  hundred  miles  of  width, 
with  its  two  ranges  of  noble  mountains,  its  marvellous  forests, 
and  its  untold  treasures  of  mineral  and  agricultural  wealth. 

North  of  California  are  Oregon  and  Washington  Terri- 
tory, with  Montana  and  Idaho,  a  country  which,  in  Mr. 


69 

Emerson's  boyhood,  was  inhabited  wholly  by  Indian  tribes, 
with  their  uncertain  and  roving  life.  He  lived  to  see  this 
entire  region  become  an  important  part  of  the  Union.  It 
shows  what  rapid  strides  were  taken  within  the  limits  of  a 
single  lifetime. 

In  1787,  exactly  ten  years  before  Mr.  Emerson's  birth,  at 
a  mansion  in  Bowdoin  Square,  Boston,  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  spot  where  Mr.  Emerson  for  many  years  success- 
fully taught  school,  were  several  gentlemen,  among  whom 
was  Dr.  Bulfiuch,  father  of  Thomas  Bulfinch,  Mr.  Emerson's 
most  intimate  friend.  The  conversation  turned  upon  the 
recent  voyages  and  discoveries  of  Captain  Cook,  and  upon 
John  Ledyard,  who  was  a  native  of  New  England,  and  whose 
first  boat  adventure  was  on  the  Connecticut  River.  Remarks 
were  made  upon  Captain  Cook's  statement  respecting  the 
valuable  furs  to  be  obtained  from  the  Indians  in  exchange 
for  trifling  commodities.  "A  rich  harvest  there,"  they  ex- 
claimed, "  for  those  who  shall  have  the  spirit  to  secure  it !  " 
This  led  soon  after  to  practical  results.  An  expedition  was 
arranged,  and  two  vessels  were  properly  equipped  for  that 
long  voyage  round  Cape  Horn  and  along  the  Northwest 
coast.  One  vessel  was  named  the  "Columbia,"  and  was 
commanded  by  Captain  Robert  Gray.  From  this  voyage 
there  was  a  safe  return,  and  in  1790  the  same  vessel  and 
captain  left  Boston  for  a  second  adventure.  On  this  voyage 
they  had  the  good  fortune  to  discover  a  harbor  far  up  the 
coast,  to  which  was  given  the  name  of  Bulfinch  Harbor,  and 
another  which  they  called  Gray's  Harbor ;  and  a  great  river, 
by  far  the  most  important  upon  the  whole  Pacific  coast,  the 
immense  value  of  which,  even  to  this  da}',  may  not  be  fully 
estimated.  Captain  Gray  with  his  good  ship  entered  the 
mouth  of  this  river,  all  sails  set,  going  up  some  twenty  miles, 
trading  with  the  natives  and  filling  his  casks  with  fresh  water. 
To  this  river  he  gave  the  name  of  his  ship,  the  "  Columbia," 
the  name  by  which  it  is  now  known  over  the  whole  world. 
This  discovery,  together  with  other  facts,  established  the 
claim  of  the  United  States  to  that  part  of  the  continent.  A 
large  number  of  vessels,  especially  from  Boston,  carried  on 


70 

from  that  date  a  constant  traffic  with  this  coast.  While 
Thomas  Jefferson  was  Minister  from  the  United  States  at 
the  Court  of  France,  he  often  met  John  Ledyard,  and  listened 
to  the  accounts  of  his  experiences  with  Captain  Cook  along  the 
Northwest  coast.  Mr.  Jefferson  became  deeply  impressed, 
through  the  information  imparted,  with  the  importance  of 
that  region  to  this  country.  When  he  became  President  he 
brought  the  subject  before  Congress,  and  gained  the  appoint- 
ment of  an  overland  expedition,  which  embraced  the  ascent 
of  the  Missouri  and  the  descent  of  the  Columbia  to  the  shore 
of  the  Pacific.  This  was  proposed  to  Congress  in  1803,  and 
in  1804  the  explorers  commenced  their  route.  A  most  inter- 
esting account  of  their  whole  journey  was  published.  They 
demonstrated  the  feasibility  of  a  direct  communication  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  showed  conclusively  that 
what  had  been  pronounced  as  a  hopeless  desert  might  to  a 
great  degree,  by  proper  cultivation,  be  made  to  wave  with 
corn,  barley,  and  wheat;  while  much  that  seemed  desolate 
was  rich  in  mineral  wealth.  The  Columbia  River  alone  was 
found  to  drain  a  basin  of  four  hundred  thousand  square  miles. 
It  may  readily  be  used  by  large  vessels  through  three  hundred 
miles,  and  is  navigable  for  barques  and  barges  over  seven 
hundred  miles. 

The  first  American  settlement  on  the  Columbia  was  on  the 
south  side,  about  eight  miles  from  its  mouth.  It  bore  the 
name  of  Astoria,  after  John  Jacob  Astor,  of  New  York,  who 
was  interested  in  the  fur  trade.  His  purpose  was  to  establish 
a  line  of  trading-posts,  Astoria  forming  the  central  mart. 
Furs  obtained  here  from  the  natives  were  to  be  exchanged 
for  valuable  commodities  at  Canton,  which  were  destined,  in 
their  turn,  for  the  Atlantic  States.  It  was  a  great  enterprise. 
Mr.  Astor  offered,  if  protected  by  the  Government,  to  turn 
the  whole  of  this  trade  into  American  channels.  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Astor,  writes :  "  I  consider  the  com- 
mencement of  a  settlement  on  that  point  of  the  western  coast 
of  America,  as  a  great  acquisition,  and  look  forward  with 
gratification  to  the  time  when  the  descendants  of  those  who 
now  become  established  there,  shall  have  spread  themselves 
through  the  whole  length  of  that  coast."  The  history  of  this 


71 

enterprise  reads  like  a  romance,  and  has  been  depicted  with 
graphic  power  by  Washington  Irving.  Controversies  ex- 
tended through  many  years  respecting  the  boundary  line 
between  us  and  the  British  Territories  ;  but  Mr.  Emerson 
lived  to  see  the  forty-ninth  parallel  of  north  latitude  declared 
by  treaty  to  be  the  true  northern  boundary  of  the  United 
States,  running  upon  this  parallel  to  the  middle  of  the 
channel  which  separates  the  continent  from  Vancouver's 
Island.  Then  followed  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  exactly 
where  was  the  middle  of  the  channel  into  the  Pacific,  a  subject 
of  actual  importance,  including  a  breadth  of  fifty  miles,  and 
a  length  of  sixty  miles  before  reaching  the  ocean  ;  covering  a 
space  of  3,000  square  miles,  and  numbering  no  less  than  forty 
islands.  The  final  decision  upon  this  question  was  mutually 
referred,  May  8,  1871,  to  his  Majesty,  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many, from  whose  decision  there  was  to  be  no  appeal.  And 
on  the  21st  of  October,  1872,  after  thorough  examination,  the 
Imperial  great  seal,  with  the  Emperor's  autograph,  was  placed 
upon  parchment  at  Berlin ;  and  the  Haro  Channel  (the  same 
for  which  the  Government  of  the  United  States  had  con- 
tended) was  fixed  upon  as  the  true  line. 

Since  this  decision,  conflicting  views  have  ceased,  and 
harmony  prevails;  while  Oregon  and  Washington  Terri- 
tory, together  with  Idaho  and  Montana,  have  become  an 
acknowledged  part  of  the  Republic.  Washington  Territory 
measures  250  miles  by  360,  making  an  area  of  70,000  square 
miles,  with  a  population  of  110,000 ;  Oregon,  275  miles  by 
350,  making  an  area  of  95,274  square  miles,  with  a  popula- 
tion of  225,000  ;  while  in  both  are  schools  and  academies 
and  colleges,  and  an  earnest  determination  to  place  within 
the  reach  of  all  the  privileges  of  a  good  education.  Idaho  has 
an  area  of  99,932  square  miles,  with  immense  mineral  wealth. 
Gold  abounds ;  over  thirty  quartz  mills  are  in  operation,  and 
in  1868  it  had  sent  $14,000,000  in  gold  to  the  United  States 
Mint.  Montana  has  an  area  of  143,776  square  miles,  and  has 
the  honor  of  including  within  itself  the  source  of  both  the 
Missouri  and  the  Columbia  Rivers,  —  one  flowing  west  and 
the  other  east,  thus  uniting  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific.  It 
has  a  population  of  over  60,000.  While  its  valleys  are  fertile, 


72 

its  hills  teem  with  mineral  wealth.  The  product  of  its  gold 
mines  is  authoritatively  reported  as  amounting  to  820,000,000 
per  j'ear.  Silver,  coal,  lead,  copper,  are  also  found  in  great 
profusion.  It  has  a  thoroughly  good  school  system,  and  a 
superintendent  of  public  instruction. 

All  this  region,  once  so  distant,  has  been  brought  as  to 
our  very  door  by  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad.  This  great 
line  of  continental  intercommunication  properly  commences 
at  St.  Paul.  The  East  has  various  lines  reaching  thus  far. 
Now  from  thence,  by  its  main  line  and  branches,  the  Northern 
Pacific  operates  over  three  thousand  miles,  putting  its  con- 
nected belt  of  road  across  the  American  continent  and  only 
stopping  with  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

St.  Paul  itself,  at  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation  on  the 
Mississippi,  is  two  thousand  miles  from  its  mouth,  and  stands 
midway  between  the  two  oceans.  Thirty-four  years  ago  this 
now  flourishing  city  had  not  so  much  as  a  name  upon  the 
map.  In  1881  it  did  a  wholesale  business  of  $51,000,000. 

Not  long  since,  from  thence  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia 
would  have  been  a  most  tedious  and  dangerous  journey, 
through  the  midst  of  savage  Indian  tribes,  with  no  footpath 
marked  out  by  man,  with  no  asylum  for  safety  and  no  roof 
for  shelter;  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  through 
what  might  have  seemed  interminable  forests  and  drifting 
sands  and  precipitous  rocks.  Now,  incredible  as  it  may  seem, 
one  can  pass  across  the  whole  continent  in  a  Pullman  palace 
car,  with  as  much  comfort  and  luxury  as  if  he  were  seated  in 
the  Brunswick  or  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel;  and,  arriving  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  may  send  a  message  by  telegraph 
which  shall  reach  the  friends  at  home  in  a  few  moments, 
telling  of  his  safe  arrival,  to  which  he  may  add,  if  he  pleases, 
the  latest  news  from  Alaska  and  Japan  ! 

It  was  the  declaration  of  Edmund  Burke,  in  the  British 
Parliament  in  1775,  in  speaking  of  the  unprecedented  growth 
of  the  colonies,  even  up  to  that  date :  "  Your  children  do 
not  grow  faster  from  infancy  to  manhood  than  they  [of  the 
colonies]  spread  from  families  to  communities  and  from  vil- 
lages to  nations."  What  would  he  have  said,  could  he  have 
witnessed  the  growth  of  the  succeeding  century  ? 


73 

Yet  did  he  distinctly  perceive  the  principles  at  work,  and 
had  a  most  vivid  consciousness  of  the  coming  result.  Wash- 
ington in  his  Inaugural  Address  spoke  of  the  overruling 
Power  which  throughout  its  past  career  had  led  this  nation 
on,  a  guidance  which  he  recognized  in  all  the  events  of  his 
life.  "No  people"  (such  were  his  words),  —  "no  people 
can  be  bound  to  acknowledge  and  adore  the  invisible  Hand 
which  conducts  the  affairs  of  men,  more  than  the  people  of 
the  United  States."  These  words,  uttered  in  1789,  are 
equally  true  to-day.  The  same  Hand  continues  to  lead, 
and  the  same  Providence  to  bless. 

Let  us  take  a  General  Survey  of  the  rapid  growth  and 
increasing  prosperity  of  this  country  during  Mr.  Emerson's 
lifetime,  —  that  is,  from  1797  to  1881. 

In  his  youth  the  area  of  Territory  in  the  United  States 
was  1,000,000  square  miles;  in  1881  there  were  3,602,990 
square  miles, — making,  within  his  memory,  an  actual  increase 
of  2,602,990  square  miles. 

When  he  was  first  counted  as  one  of  the  Population  of  the 
United  States,  there  were  five  millions  of  people ;  before  his 
death  the  number  had  increased  to  fifty-one  millions,  —  mak- 
ing, within  his  experience,  an  increase  of  forty-six  millions. 

In  the  way  of  Manufactures,  in  1800  (when  Emerson  was 
three  years  of  age),  the  manufactured  products  of  the  United 
States  were  valued  at  fifty  million  dollars;  in  1880  (when 
he  was  in  his  eighty-third  year),  he  had  seen  an  increase  of 
about  six  billion  dollars. 

In  addition  to  this  increase  in  manufactured  fabrics  of  six 
billions,  there  was  a  valuation  of  Agricultural  products  of  over 
two  billion  dollars. 

The  Export  of  domestic  products  in  1800  was  forty  millions; 
and  in  1881  it  had  risen  to  nearly  nine  hundred  millions.  All 
will  readily  admit  that  this  is  a  most  remarkable  increase  in 
the  territory,  population,  manufactures,  agricultural  products 
and  exportations  of  one  country  within  the  circle  of  a  single 
life. 

10 


RAILROADS. 


THROUGH  Mr.  Emerson's  youthful  days  the  present  marvel- 
lous means  of  intercommunication,  by  which  distant  sections 
of  the  country  and  of  the  world  are  now  brought  together, 
had  no  existence.  What  would  have  then  been  the  fatiguing 
journey  of  a  week,  can  now,  as  we  all  know,  be  readily  ac- 
complished with  perfect  ease  in  a  few  hours.  The  changes 
thus  produced,  socially  and  commercially,  are  almost  beyond 
comprehension. 

When  Mr.  Emerson  was  twenty  years  of  age,  not  one  rail- 
road existed  throughout  all  Europe.  Now  into  what  part  of 
Europe  can  we  look  and  not  find  railroads  ?  Various  rude 
experiments  had  indeed  been  made  at  a  somewhat  earlier 
date,  principal!}'  for  the  transit  of  coal,  in  Durham  and 
Northumberland.  Upon  this  basis  various  improvements 
were  introduced,  which  at  length  resulted  in  a  railroad,  prop- 
erly so  called.  The  earliest  of  these  roads  was  formally 
opened  between  Liverpool  and  Manchester  in  1830.  This 
may  be  counted  the  true  inauguration  of  the  great  railway 
system,  at  which  time  Mr.  Emerson  was  thirty-three  years  of 
age.  Within  twenty  years,  in  Great  Britain  alone,  more  than 
five  hundred  million  dollars  had  been  thus  invested.  The 
first  railroads  out  of  Great  Britain  were  commenced  in  Bel- 
gium ;  after  this  they  were  introduced  into  France,  Italy, 
Denmark,  Sweden,  Norway,  Switzerland,  and  now  exist  on 
an  extended  scale  in  Spain,  Russia,  India,  China,  Africa, 
until  in  fact  they  form  a  network  over  the  whole  globe. 

Mr.  Emerson  distinctly  remembered  the  first  introduction 
of  these  roads  into  this  country.  In  1830  he  saw  the  earliest 
railroad  on  this  continent,  about  twenty  miles  in  length, 
which  was  looked  upon  as  a  curiosity.  The  rapid  increase 


75 

of  railroads  in  the  United  States  may  be  seen  by  the  fol- 
lowing statement,  giving  the  number  of  miles  in  operation 
through  each  successive  five  years,, from  1835  to  1882  :  — 


In  1830 

the  number 

of  miles 

in  operation 

was          20 

"  1835 

u 

« 

<( 

1,098 

«  1840 

a 

u 

M 

2,818 

«  1845 

M 

u 

M 

4,633 

"  1850 

(( 

u 

tt 

9,021 

"  1855 

« 

u 

It 

18,374 

"  1860 

U 

tt 

n 

30,635 

"  1865 

U 

u 

U 

35,085 

"  1870 

M 

tt 

It 

52,914 

«  1875 

a 

tt 

« 

74,096 

«  1880 

u 

u 

U 

93,671 

"  1881 

u 

tl 

It 

104,813 

"  1882 

a 

tl 

tl 

113,329 

During  the  last  ten  years  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life  over  fifty 
thousand  miles  of  railroad  were  built.  That  which  was  once 
considered  a  visionary  scheme  had  become  a  practical  method 
of  transportation  in,  what  may  well  be  called,  universal  use. 
If  the  same  rate  of  construction  continues,  there  will  be,  in 
1890,  over  two  hundred  thousand  miles  of  road  in  this  coun- 
try in  full  operation,  extending  from  the  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  including  three  distinct  lines 
uniting  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

The  earnings  of  the  railroads  in  the  country  during  the 
past  year  equalled  $725,325,119,  an  increase  over  the  pre- 
vious year  of  8110,000,000.  The  net  earnings  of  the  roads 
were,  8276.654,119,  an  increase  of  $21,500,000  over  the  earn- 
ings of  1880.  The  cost  of  operating  the  roads  for  the  year 
was  $449,565,071.  The  total  amount  expended  in  the  con- 
struction of  new  lines,  and  in  operating  and  improving  old 
roads,  was  over  $750,000,000 ;  the  greater  part  of  this  vast 
sum  being  paid  in  wages. 

The  number  of  persons  employed  in  operating  the  roads 
was  1,200,000  ;  the  number  employed  in  the  construction  of 
our  railroads  equalled  400,000,  making  the  whole  number 
1,600,000. 


76 

The  tonnage  transported  over  all  the  roads  in  the  country 
in  1881  was  not  less  than  350,000,000,000  tons.  The  valua- 
tion of  the  tonnage  moved  on  all  the  railroads  of  the  United 
States  was  estimated  at  $12,000,000,000.  As  an  evidence  of 
the  rapid  progress  of  the  railroad  tonnage  of  the  country,  it 
may  be  stated  that  the  tonnage  of  all  the  railroads  in  the 
United  States  in  1851  did  not  exceed  5,000,000  tons,  an  in- 
crease in  thirty  years  of  349,995,000,000  tons.  Thirty  years 
ago  the  tonnage  did  not  equal  one  half  the  present  annual 
tonnage  of  the  Erie  and  New  York  Central  Railroad.  The 
value  of  tonnage  in  1851  did  not  exceed  $250,000,000,  while 
the  tonnage  in  1881  was  $12,000,000,000.  The  total  number 
of  passengers  transported  during  1882  (not  including  the 
New  York  elevated  railroads)  was  289,190,723.  The  total 
movement  of  all  the  railroads,  in  1882,  equalled  6,834,048,765 
persons.  The  total  movement  of  all  the  railroads,  in  1882, 
equalled  39,302,209,249  tons.  The  value  of  net  tonnage  was, 
say,  $15,000,000,000. 

These  roads  have  made  what  was  once  distant  near,  and 
have  caused  a  people  scattered  over  remote  spaces  to  become 
as  one  family.  Indeed,  in  these  latter  days  there  seems  no 
such  thing  as  distance.  Thackeray  declares,  "  we  no  lon- 
ger travel,  we  only  arrive"  The  producer  finds  his  market, 
though  it  were  thousands  of  miles  away,  as  if  it  were  at  his 
next  door ;  and  friends  separated  by  zones  and  climates  may 
almost  pass  their  social  evenings  together.  The  results  are 
more  than  financial.  The  material  resources  of  the  country 
by  this  instrumentality  have  been  immeasurably  developed  ; 
but  beyond  this  are  subtle  influences,  largely  affecting  mind 
and  heart,  which  may,  in  the  end,  become  a  supreme  good. 


STEAM  NAVIGATION. 


MR.  EMERSON  was  a  lad  ten  years  of  age  when  Fnlton 
launched  his  first  steam  vessel  on  the  Hudson,  and  he  might 
have  been  on  board  the  boat,  in  company  with  Fulton,  as  he 
made  that  memorable  voyage  from  New  York  to  Albany,  a 
distance  of  one  hundred  and  forty-five  miles  against  wind 
and  tide,  in  twenty-four  hours.  Fulton,  with  indomitable 
will,  through  years  of  trial,  had  overcome  one  obstacle  after 
another,  until  now  the  utility  of  this  new  method  of  naviga- 
tion was  fully  demonstrated. 

Within  five  years  of  that  time  Fulton  built  at  Pittsburg 
the  first  steamer  to  ply  upon  the  Mississippi.  On  being  con- 
gratulated upon  what  he  had  accomplished  on  the  Hudson, 
this  illustrious  inventor  said  to  Judge  Story:  "My  ultimate 
triumph  will  be  on  the  Mississippi.  I  know  that  steamboat 
navigation  on  that  river  is  deemed  impossible  by  many  ;  but  I 
am  confident  of  success."  That  prediction  was  fulfilled  ;  and 
an  entire  change  was  thus  wrought  in  the  internal  navigation 
of  the  country,  extending  speedily  to  all  its  navigable  rivers 
and  lakes.  Mr.  Emerson  lived  to  see  the  old  sj^stem  of  ship- 
ping completely  revolutionized.  Watching  with  habitual 
interest  the  application  of  science  to  the  practical  business  of 
life,  he  counted  this  one  of  its  most  brilliant  triumphs.  Ves- 
sels propelled  by  steam  were  soon  employed  both  by  domestic 
and  foreign  commerce.  The  most  distant  countries  of  the 
world  were  brought  into  close  connection.  Even  in  the  naval 
service  old  ships  of  the  line  were  displaced  by  steamers,  while 
unexampled  facilities  of  intercommunication  were  offered  on 
river  and  lake  and  ocean,  for  travel  and  traffic  over  the 
entire  globe. 


THE   TELEGEAPH. 


THE  fellow-worker  with  the  railroad  is  the  electric  tele- 
graph. When  Mr.  Emerson  was  forty-seven  years  of  age,  the 
first  line  of  electric  telegraph  on  this  continent  was  laid 
between  Baltimore  and  Washington.  This  was  under  the 
superintendence  of  Professor  Morse,  who  was  six  years  Mr. 
Emerson's  senior.  Thirty  years  previous  to  this,  Morse,  with 
the  intention  of  being  a  portrait  painter,  was  an  art  student 
under  Benjamin  West.  Mr.  Emerson  lived  to  see  the  name 
of  Morse  identified  with  the  recording  telegraph,  under  whose 
influence  it  extended  itself  over  the  whole  globe. 

Mr.  Cornell  was  at  the  same  time  (1844),  working  with  his 
wheel-barrow,  as  a  day  laborer,  in  the  employment  of  Mr. 
Morse,  to  whom  he  imparted  valuable  suggestions,  which  by 
their  adoption  rendered  the  line  more  perfect.  Mr.  Cornell 
has,  since  that  time,  established  the  University  that  bears  his 
name ;  and  this  -is  but  one  of  his  many  munificent  gifts  for 
the  benefit  of  his  country. 

The  electric  telegraph  in  this  country,  before  Mr.  Emer- 
son's death,  covered  not  less  than  fifty  thousand  miles.  The 
number  of  messages  passing  annually  over  the  wires  was 
estimated  at  five  million,  from  which  a  revenue  was  received 
of  more  than  two  million  dollars  per  annum  ;  while,  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  the  press  paid  at  least  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  for  public  despatches.  But  far  beyond  this  is  the 
present  extension  of  the  electric  telegraph,  stretching,  as  it 
now  does,  over  the  cities  and  villages  of  the  whole  continent, 
spanning  its  plains  and  climbing  its  mountains,  it  being  now 
considered  everywhere  as  an  essential  requisite  in  business, 


79 

commerce  and  traffic  in  all  their  branches  having  become 
more  and  more  dependent  upon  it. 

Thus  did  Mr.  Emerson  find  it,  when  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
three  he  followed  the  electric  wire  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
Pacific,  —  one  thousand  miles  from  Boston  to  Chicago  ;  then 
i from  Chicago  to  Omaha,  five  hundred  miles;  thence  over  the 
inclined  plain,  five  hundred  miles  more,  to  Cheyenne,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains;  still  upward  to  Sherman,  eight 
thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty-four,  feet  above  the  ocean. 
After  this  was  Laramie,  and  Echo  and  Webber  Canon,  and 
yet  onward  over  the  alkali  plains,  one  thousand  miles  more. 
At  times  there  were  treeless  deserts  and  plains  of  barren  sand  ; 
at  times,  towering  rocks  worn  into  fantastic  shapes  by  the 
storms  of  ages  ;  and  again,  richest  verdure  and  flowers.  Now 
there  were  opening  vistas  stretching  away  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach;  and  now,  elevations  higher  than  St.  Bernard,  the  lofti- 
est inhabited  spot  in  Europe. 

During  this  whole  journey,  taken,  as  we  have  said,  when 
Mr.  Emerson  was  beyond  his  threescore  years  and  ten,  he 
found  the  iron  thread  at  every  point,  bearing  its  messages 
with  the  swiftness  of  light  along  the  valleys  and  over  the 
highest  summits  of  the  mountains.  Not  yet  had  he  reached 
his  place  of  destination;  still  onward  he  passed,  by  the  Hum- 
boldt  River,  and  the  mysterious  gorge  where  the  waters  of 
that  river  vanish  ;  then  far  awa}7  over  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and 
down  the  western  slope  to  San  Francisco ;  and  not  once  over 
all  this  distance,  from  Plymouth  Rock  to  the  Golden  Gate, 
had  the  continuity  of  the  wire  been  broken.  Well  might  he 
exclaim,  with  the  Psalmist,  "'  Their  line  is  gone  out  through 
all  the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world  !  " 

The  writer  dwells  with  the  greater  pleasure  upon  Mr.  Emer- 
son's journey  over  the  Central  Pacific  Railroad,  because,  in  the 
spring  of  the  same  year  (1870),  it  was  his  good  fortune  to 
pass  over  this  road.  Having  in  Europe  participated  with  him 
in  some  of  the  rare  advantages  there  offered,  by  a  singular 
coincidence  the  year  1870  found  us  both  in  California. 

This  Central  Pacific  road  is  throughout  a  marvel  of  civil 
engineering.  It  has  triumphed  over  difficulties  which  might 


80 

well  have  appeared  impossible  for  human  power  to  surmount. 
Even  where  the  way  was  most  level,  wood  and  water  and 
all  essential  materials  had  to  be  brought  from  great  distances, 
while  frequently  there  were  trackless  deserts  and  ragged 
mountains,  deep  gorges  and  stupendous  cliffs.  In  places 
enormous  ravines  were  spanned  by  intricate  trestle-work. 
Elsewhere  passages  were  drilled  through  solid  rock.  Some  of 
these  tunnels  are  two  thousand  feet  in  length,  perforating  one 
mass  of  granite.  There  are  at  least  fifteen  of  these  tunnels 
upon  the  line,  covering  in  all  more  than  six  thousand  feet. 
The  track  going  west  ascends  twenty-five  hundred  feet  in  fifty 
miles,  and  descends  six  thousand  feet  in  seventy-five  miles. 
A  million  dollars  was  expended  in  powder  for  the  purpose  of 
blasting ;  in  numerous  places  powder  was  found  not  to  be 
sufficiently  powerful,  arid  glycerine  was  used.  Over  a  million 
dollars  more  was  expended  in  building  a  bridge  three  thousand 
feet  in  length.  While  the  road  was  in  process  of  construction, 
not  fewer  than  twenty-five  sawmills  on  the  Sierra  Nevadas 
were  kept  constantly  at  work,  supplying  six  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand  feet  of  timber  dail}",  aided  by  the  axes 
of  a  thousand  men.  Workmen  were  often  suspended  over 
the  surface  of  perpendicular  rocks,  drilling  and  blasting  a 
pathway  for  the  road.  In  one  locality,  known  as  Cape  Horn, 
the  precipice  sinks  abruptly  fifteen  hundred  feet,  while  the 
smooth  surface  of  the  rock  rises  upward  five  hundred  feet. 
The  wide-sweeping  view  from  thence,  if  one  is  not  too  dizzy 
to  look,  is  sublime.  Here  the  road  passes  over  a  plateau 
once  the  bed  of  an  ocean,  and  lifted  to  its  present  position 
by  volcanic  forces ;  and  again  it  glides  along  plains  of  pul- 
verized rock  ground  into  the  finest  dust  by  preadamite  gla- 
ciers ;  and  here  again  it  winds  around  monuments  of  unknown 
geological  epochs,  the  authentic  record  of  past  ages  yet  wait- 
ing to  be  read.  More  than  twenty  thousand  men  were 
employed  in  separate  sections,  busy  at  their  various  work ; 
some  living  in  tents,  others  in  the  open  air.  Nine  out  of  ten 
of  these  hardy  men  had  done  good  service  during  the  civil 
war,  and,  having  successfully  defended  the  Government  in  its 
hour  of  peril,  they  had  become  used  to  hardship  and  had 


81 

learned  to  like  it;  and  they  worked  with  the  more  energy 
when  they  saw,  as  they  did,  the  flag  of  the  Republic  waving 
over  them.  After  reaching  the  highest  point  of  the  road,  on 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  there  is  a  vast  plateau  lifted  from  five 
to  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  extending  hundreds  of 
miles ;  while  from  this  elevation,  as  in  the  Andes,  or  the  Cau- 
casus in  Central  Asia,  rise  yet  loftier  ranges.  Arriving  at 
length  at  the  Sierra  Nevada,  these  mountains  stand  like  a  rim 
along  the  western  part  of  the  Great  Basin,  —  the  Great  Basin 
being  itself  elevated,  as  has  been  just  stated,  —  and  along  this 
rim  rise  yet  higher  gigantic  ranges,  some  of  whose  summits 
tower  upward  from  fourteen  to  fifteen  thousand  feet.  No  one 
can  imagine  the  engineering  skill  required,  or  the  amount 
of  toil  endured  in  the  formation  of  this  road,  who  has  not 
witnessed  the  extraordinary  character  of  the  country  through 
which  it  passes,  —  a  region  not  long  since  known  only  to 
trappers  and  hordes  of  Indians,  while  at  the  present  time 
palace-cars  glide  peacefully  over  it,  and  the  comfortable  trav- 
eller gazes  out  upon  the  wondrous  scenery,  surrounded  by 
every  luxury,  beholding  at  his  ease  grandeur  unsurpassed  in 
either  Switzerland  or  Norway.  Even  the  casual  observer 
becomes  excited  by  some  new  marvel  at  every  step,  while  the 
artist  kindles  into  enthusiasm  at  unexpected  manifestations  of 
color  or  form,  and  the  student  of  science  constantly  beholds 
fresh  fields  opening  before  him  for  exploration. 

Along  the  whole  distance,  added  to  the  solid  masonry 
beneath,  a  slender  wire,  like  a  spider's  thread,  swings  in 
the  air  above.  Over  the  first,  thunders  the  powerful  loco- 
motive, with  its  ponderous  train ;  while  along  the  latter, 
darts  the  invisible  thought  of  man,  with  its  messages  of  joy 
or  woe. 

The  writer  of  this,  in  1870,  accompanied  the  Board  of 
Trade  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco,  in  the  first  Pullman 
palace-cars  that  went  directly  through  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific.  It  was  in  this  respect  an  historical  event.  The 
Governors  of  the  several  States,  as  their  respective  territories 
were  entered,  came  out  to  meet  us  and  extend  a  welcome. 
Thus  it  was  at  Iowa  and  Nebraska  and  Colorado  and 

11 


82 

Wyoming  and  Nevada;  while  in  reply  the  President  of  the 
Board,  the  Hon.  Alexander  H.  Rice,  happily  responded. 

We  had  a  printing-press  on  board,  and  a  paper  was  pub- 
lished each  day,  filled  with  spirited  communications  from  vari- 
ous members  of  our  party ;  so  that  we  were  always  sure  of 
the  latest  news,  and  kept  well  informed  upon  passing  events. 
Buffaloes,  antelopes,  and  prairie  dogs  came  out  occasionally  to 
look  at  us;  while  roving  Indians  of  various  tribes  gazed  upon 
us  with  evident  wonder. 

Even  while  the  road  was  in  process  of  construction  there 
was  a  printing-press  by  which  three  newspapers  were  printed 
daily.  The  workmen  could  not  get  on  without  their  news- 
paper! 

The  electric  telegraph  was  throughout  a  pleasant  com- 
panion, bringing  and  taking  messages.  Word  of  our  prog- 
ress was  thus  sent  to  friends  who  had  been  left  behind,  and 
thus  also  did  we  hear  from  Boston,  Portland,  New  York, 
Philadelphia,  and  Washington ;  and  as  we  approached  the 
western  side  of  the  continent,  far  up  on  the  Sierra,  welcome 
came  to  us,  in  anticipation,  from  San  Francisco.  We  were 
thus  surrounded  as  by  a  mysterious  presence.  Neither 
mountain  height  nor  the  solitude  of  the  desert  could  shut  us 
out  from  sympathy.  Along  the  whole  road,  at  nearly  every 
station,  voices  spoke  to  us,  and  the  very  air  seemed  instinct 
with  a  cordial  good-will. 

This  Central  Pacific  Railroad,  to  be  always  counted  as  one 
of  the  great  enterprises  of  our  time,  was  finished  in  1869. 
The  last  blow  of  the  hammer  was  struck  in  the  spring  of  that 
year,  and  on  the  10th  of  May  the  memorable  event  was' 
publicly  celebrated ;  some  three  thousand  persons,  including 
workmen,  being  present. 

The  road  had  been  carried  on  both  from  the  east  and  from 
the  west,  and  the  golden  spike  was  driven  where  the  two 
parties  met.  A  prayer  was  offered,  of  thanksgiving  and  sup- 
plication, after  which  several  brief  addresses  were  made,  with 
congratulations  from  the  Governors  of  several  States.  In  the 
commemorative  services  the  telegraph  took  active  part.  Ar- 
rangements had  been  made  by  which  all  the  telegraphs  in  the 


83 

land  were  connected.  Messages  were  sent  and  received.  The 
electric  wires  were  twined  around  the  spike  and  the  hammer, 
and  these  wires  communicated  with  the  telegraph  line,  and 
were  thence  connected  with  a  fifteen-inch  Parrott  gun  at 
San  Francisco ;  and  with  the  last  stroke  of  the  hammer 
the  cannon  (eight  hundred  miles  distant)  was  fired  by  the 
electric  spark,  at  which  signal  all  the  bells  in  San  Francisco 
and  along  the  Pacific  Coast  sent  forth  a  rejoicing  peal.  At 
the  same  signal,  the  bells  in  Washington,  Philadelphia, 
New  York,  Boston,  Cincinnati,  and  Chicago  simultaneously 
joined  in  the  jubilant  notes.  The  event  was  national,  and 
the  telegraph  enabled  the  people  of  the  whole  land  to 
participate. 

The  weight  of  wire  used  for  the  telegraph  between  Omaha 
and  San  Francisco  amounted  to  seven  hundred  thousand 
pounds.  Some  of  the  Indian  tribes  along  the  route  looked 
upon  the  wire  with  awe,  and  considered  it  to  be  under  the 
protection  of  the  Great  Spirit ;  while  tribes  that  had  not  this 
superstition  had  to  be  watched  by  a  force  of  cavalry  sent  out 
from  the  Government. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  rapid  speed  of  transmission  and  the 
efficiency  with  which  work  maybe  accomplished,  messages  are 
often  telegraphed  and  printed  at  the  rate  of  two  thousand  six 
hundred  words  per  hour.  They  are  sent  at  the  rate  of  fifty- 
eight  words  per  minute,  and  by  some  instruments  with  much 
greater  despatch.  On  the  day  of  President  Lincoln's  funeral 
eighty-five  thousand  words  were  transmitted  from  Washing- 
ton to  New  York  during  the  day,  more  than  fourteen  thousand 
words  per  hour.  On  another  occasion  the  Annual  Message 
of  the  Governor  of  New  York,  containing  five  thousand  words, 
was  officially  transmitted  by  telegraph  and  published  entire  in 
the  city  of  New  York  within  two  hours  of  its  delivery  at  the 
Capitol  in  Albany.  The  speech  of  the  Queen  at  the  opening 
of  Parliament  was  printed  and  circulated  in  Paris  and  Berlin 
before  her  Majesty  had  left  the  House  of  Lords,  every  word 
of  which,  in  addition  to  its  transit  overland,  must  have  gone 
thirty  miles  under  the  waters  of  the  English  Channel. 


84 

,  The  electro-chemical  telegraph  can  transmit,  through  a 
distance  of  one  thousand  miles,  intelligence  at  the  rate  of 
nineteen  thousand  five  hundred  words  per  hour,  which  would 
probably  answer  the  requirement  of  most  persons  under 
ordinary  circumstances. 

For  scientific  purposes  arrangements  were  made,  some  time 
since,  by  which  direct  connections  were  formed  from  the 
Observatory  at  Cambridge  to  the  Pacific  coast  and  back, 
making  a  direct  circuit,  in  the  entire  distance,  of  seven  thou- 
sand miles.  There  was  to  be  no  break,  but  the  message  Avas 
to  report  itself  at  the  same  point  from  which  it  was  sent.  It 
went  over  this  entire  space  (of  seven  thousand  miles),  report- 
ing itself,  as  above  named,  in  seven-tenths  of  a  second. 

And  now  comes  another  marvel,  by  which  messages  may 
be  sent  at  the  same  time  and  by  the  same  wire  in  opposite 
directions;  nay,  not  simply  two  communications,  but  four, 
can  be  sent  over  one  wire  at  the  same  time,  from  New  York 
to  Chicago,  a  distance  of  one  thousand  miles,  and  to  St.  Louis, 
a  distance  of  eleven  hundred  miles.  These  simultaneous 
transmissions  have  thus  gone  from  New  York  to  Washington 
at  the  rate  of  fifty-eight  words  per  minute  each  way.  Mes- 
sages are  often  sent  from  London  two  thousand  miles,  in 
answer  to  which  are  received  instantaneous  replies. 

The  telegraph  at  the  present  time  is  familiarly  used  in 
India,  Russia,  Mexico,  and  Australia,  in  Egypt  and  China,  and 
even  in  Siberia,  —  indeed,  it  may  well  be  said,  in  every  place 
where  the  intelligence  of  man  has  made  itself  known. 

Every  variety  of  method  has  also  been  tried, — experiments 
of  all  descriptions,  improvements  and  inventions  without 
number,  many  of  them  most  ingenious  and  curious,  but  not 
in  all  cases  available  for  practical  working.  Volumes  have 
been  written  describing  various  methods  proposed,  many  pre- 
senting in  some  particulars  special  advantages  ;  yet,  remark- 
able as  many  of  these  have  been,  and  reflecting  great  credit 
upon  the  genius  of  those  who  have  labored  over  them,  still 
it  is  an  undeniable  fact  that  the  telegraph  systems  most  gen- 
erally used,  both  here  and  in  Europe,  have  been  those  which 
originated  in  this  country.  Prescott  speaks  of  a  convention 


85 

of  deputies  from  the  German  states  of  Austria,  Prussia, 
Bavaria,  Wiirtemberg,  and  Saxony.  The  meeting  took  place 
at  Vienna  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  uniform  telegraph 
system,  and  of  selecting  for  that  purpose  the  best.  After 
the  most  thorough  examination,  each  method  having  been 
put  to  the  severest  test,  the  convention  decided  that  the 
Morse  system  was  practically  superior  to  all  others  ;  and  this 
American  system  was  unanimously  adopted,  even  though  one 
of  their  own  number  (Professor  Steinheil)  had  invented  a 
recording  telegraph  which  seemed  to  approach  very  near  to 
perfection ;  yet  under  such  circumstances  he  had  the  mag- 
nanimity to  advocate  the  American  system,  which  he  con- 
sidered, for  economy,  speed,  and  correctness,  preferable  to  all 
others. 


THE   ELECTRIC   FIRE  ALARM. 


IN  connection  with  the  telegraph,  the  fire  alarm  is  too 
important  to  be  passed  over  in  silence.  For  more  than  thirty 
years  it  has  fulfilled  its  appointed  work,  rendering  in  many 
cities  invaluable  service.  In  the  elevated  portion  of  the  City 
Hall  a  watchman  is  stationed  day  and  night.  From  this 
centre  run  forth  signal  circuits  of  wire  to  every  section  of  the 
city.  These  are  connected  with  signal-boxes,  to  which,  in 
case  of  fire,  citizens  have  ready  access.  Thence  the  watch- 
man is  immediately  informed  in  what  district,  and  section  of 
the  district,  the  fire  is,  and  the  next  moment  the  alarm  bells, 
in  all  the  church-towers,  not  only  peal  out  the  signal,  but 
in  such  manner  that  the  whole  fire  department  instantly 
know  where  to  direct  their  steps ;  often  before  the  hand  is 
withdrawn  which  gives  the  alarm,  the  entire  body  of  firemen 
are  rushing  at  full  speed  towards  the  scene  of  destruction. 
All  the  hammers  that  smite  upon  the  bells  weigh  from  one 
hundred  to  two  hundred  pounds  ;  these  are  made  to  rise  and 
fall  by  electro-magnetic  power.  The  promptness  and  efficiency 
of  the  whole  is  like  magic.  In  one  instant  of  time  hundreds 
of  thousands  throughout  the  city  know  what  is  transpiring ; 
while  those  who  can  render  aid  are  swiftly  seeking  to  do  so. 
Whatever  alarms  for  fire  were  given  in  the  city  through  the 
last  quarter  of  a  century  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  came  over  the 
electric  wire;  and  among  others  the  alarm  for  that  disastrous 
conflagration  which  laid  the  most  valuable  part  of  the  city 
of  his  habitation  in  ashes,  and  when  so  many  of  his  dearest 
personal  friends  saw,  within  a  few  hours,  their  warehouses 
laid  in  ruins. 


SUBMAEINE   TELEGEAPH. 


Mr.  Emerson  was  fifty-seven  years  of  age,  there  was 
not  an  ocean  cable  in  the  world.  He  lived  to  see  more  than 
seventy  thousand  miles  of  cable  crossing  seas  and  oceans.  Vari- 
ous experiments  had  been  made  of  carrying  the  telegraphic 
wire  beneath  the  water  ;  and  when  this  had  been  successfully 
accomplished,  there  followed  the  bolder  adventures  of  ten, 
twenty,  thirty,  and  one  hundred  miles,  —  first,  the  Hudson 
River,  New  York  and  Jersey  City ;  then  Dover  and  Calais, 
England  and  Holland,  the  Persian  Gulf,  —  but  when  this  could 
be  done,  why  not  the  Atlantic  ?  In  August  of  1857  that  dar- 
ing purpose  was  resolutely  commenced.  Two  ships  of  war  — 
one  the  "  Niagara,"  the  other  the  "  Agamemnon  ;"  one  Amer- 
ican, and  one  English  —  each  with  twelve  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  of  cable  carefully  coiled  on  board,  commenced  their  work. 
Trials  came,  and  disappointments  ;  but  no  such  result  as  fail- 
ure was  for  an  instant  admitted.  Once  the  cable  parted  in 
two  thousand  fathoms  of  water,  after  more  than  three  hun- 
dred miles  of  its  length  had  been  successfully  laid ;  at  the 
next  trial,  a  fierce  gale  overtook  them,  threatening  all  with 
destruction.  But  in  spite  of  difficulties  the  great  work  was 
triumphantly  accomplished.  In  August,  1857,  the  work  of 
paying  out  the  cable  commenced,  and  on  the  16th  of  August, 
1858,  the  following  official  despatch  was  received  at  New- 
foundland: "The  Directors  of  the  Atlantic  Telegraph  Com- 
pany, Great  Britain,  to  the  Directors  in  America.  Europe 
and  America  are  united  by  telegraph.  '  Glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  on  earth  peace,  good-will  towards  men.'  '  On 
the  17th  of  August  the  telegraph  brought  under  the  ocean  the 
first  message  from  the  Queen,  congratulating  the  President 


upon  the  successful  completion  of  this  great  international 
work,  —  a  work  in  which  she  declared  she  had  taken  the  great- 
est interest,  and  fervently  expressing  the  hope  that  "the  elec- 
tric cable  which  now  connects  Great  Britain  with  the  United 
States  may  prove  an  additional  link  between  the  two  nations, 
whose  friendship  is  founded  upon  their  common  interest  and 
mutual  esteem.  The  Queen  renews  to  the  President  her 
best  wishes  for  the  prosperity  of  the  United  States." 

To  which  the  President  of  the  United  States  cordially 
replied,  reciprocating  the  congratulations  of  her  Majesty  the 
Queen,  on  the  success  of  the  great  national  enterprise,  ac- 
complished by  the  science,  skill,  and  indomitable  energy 
of  the  two  countries.  "  May  the  Atlantic  Telegraph,  under 
the  blessing  of  Heaven,  prove  to  be  a  bond  of  perpetual 
peace  and  friendship  between  the  kindred  nations,  and  an 
instrument  designed  by  Divine  Providence  to  diffuse  religion, 
civilization,  liberty,  and  law  throughout  the  world." 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London  sent  to  the  city  of  New  York 
his  earnest  congratulations,  adding :  "  This  is  a  triumph  of 
science  and  energy  over  time  and  space,  uniting  more  closely 
the  bonds  of  peace  and  commercial  prosperity ;  introducing 
an  era  in  the  world's  history,  pregnant  with  results  beyond 
the  conception  of  a  finite  mind." 

Thus,  for  nearly  quarter  of  a  century  did  Mr.  Emerson 
live  to  see  the  Atlantic  telegraph  in  constant  use,  and  to 
have  become  so  much  a  matter  of  daily  life  as  to  have  lost 
perhaps  with  many  its  novelty,  and  with  that  the  sense  of  its 
xnarvellousness. 

Not  only  does  the  submarine  telegraph  now  pass  under 
the  Atlantic,  but  the  Black  and  the  Red  Seas,  the  German 
Ocean,  and  the  Mediterranean.  It  reaches  beneath  the  waves 
to  Sweden  and  Denmark,  to  Malta  and  Alexandria,  to  Tripoli 
and  Algiers,  to  Bombay  and  Calcutta. 

But  in  addition  to  this,  we  are  now  beholding  a  double  and 
treble  and  quadruple  transmission  of  messages,  —  at  the  same 
time,  over  the  same  wire  ;  simultaneous  transmissions  either 
in  the  same  direction  or  in  opposite  directions.  And  this 
astonishing  result  has  grown  into  large  practice  within 


89 

the  last  few  years.  To  many  minds  this  may  doubtless  be 
incomprehensible  ! 

Looking  over  the  surface  of  vast  oceans  and  feeling  im- 
pressed by  the  wild  sweeping  surges,  the  whole  world 
knows  full  well  that  messages  are  constantly  passing  with 
the  swiftness  of  light  through  those  watery  depths.  But  do 
men  fully  comprehend  all  the  marvels  therewith  involved  ? 
How  tame  are  even  the  wildest  of  the  Arabian  stories, 
compared  to  the  wonders  that  are  witnessed  every  hour! 
There  are  those  who  would  hardly  think  it  worthy  of  com- 
ment, if  a  message  were  sent  this  day  to  London,  and  from 
London  to  Constantinople,  and  thence  to  Bagdad,  and  from 
Bagdad  through  British  India,  and  at  last  under  the  Atlantic 
to  Massachusetts,  and  still  onward  over  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  to  San  Francisco. 

In  the  daily  papers  of  San  Francisco,  is  reported  the  tele- 
graphic news  respecting  the  state  of  the  markets  abroad, 
together  with  the  general  intelligence  from  Europe,  of  facts 
which  were  actually  transpiring  only  the  day  previous. 
This  intelligence  is  published  simultaneously  in  New  York, 
Boston,  and  San  Francisco  ;  the  papers  in  the  three  cities 
reporting  the  same  words  which  come  to  each,  three  thousand 
miles  beneath  the  sea,  and  to  the  latter  city  at  least  three 
thousand  miles  more  overland.  Omniscience  and  Omnipres- 
ence seem  practically  illustrated  in  the  commonplace  doings 
of  our  day. 


12 


THE  TELEPHONE. 


ANY  person  might  naturally  have  imagined,  in  regard  to  the 
transmission  of  thought  through  great  distances  of  space, 
that  perfection  had  been  acquired,  at  least  as  near  perfection 
as  human  ability  would  be  likely  to  attain.  But  no ;  the 
climax  had  not  yet  been  reached.  An  observer  of  poetic 
temperament  might  have  exclaimed,  "  Ay,  could  we  but  send 
over  the  wires  articulate  speech  !  were  it  made  possible  for 
friends,  a  hundred  miles  distant,  to  converse  together  as  if  in 
the  same  room,  that  were  indeed  an  achievement!"  Well, 
even  this  has  been  accomplished.  Not  as  a  solitary  experi- 
ment, but  as  a  fact  of  daily  experience,  a  simple  business 
arrangement  employed  now  by  hundreds  of  thousands.  At 
this  moment  more  than  three  hundred  thousand  telephones 
are  in  constant  and  practical  use  through  the  United  States. 
They  are  also  in  daily  use  through  Belgium,  Germany, 
Austria,  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  Russia,  Sweden,  Norway, 
and  Holland.  Over  the  civilized  world  they  seem  to  have 
taken  their  place  as  one  of  the  necessities  of  life. 

In  Mr.  Emerson's  advanced  age  Professor  Alexander 
Graham  Bell  had  acquired  a  high  reputation  as  an  educator ; 
especially  was  he  known  as  a  successful  teacher  of  deaf  mutes. 
Not  satisfied  with  mechanical  methods  or  attainments  yet 
reached,  he  examined  closely  the  principles  of  speech  and  the 
philosophy  of  sound  ;  the  complicated  organs  of  the  throat, 
mouth,  and  ear,  how  they  were  constructed  and  why  they 
were  thus  constructed.  So  accurate  were  his  perceptions  and 
so  correct  were  his  conclusions,  that  he  actually  taught  those 
who  had  been  born  deaf  and  dumb  to  comprehend  by  the  mov- 
ing lips  the  thought  expressed,  and  not  only  this,  but  to  answer 


91 

by  articulate  speech.  He  also  examined  minutely  into  the 
philosophy  of  sound,  the  nature  of  vibrations  made  upon  the 
atmosphere,  the  "how  and  why"  connected  with  every  move- 
ment, until,  while  watching  the  musical  tones  upon  the  cord 
of  a  piano,  he  suddenly  exclaimed  that  the  human  voice 
might  be  transmitted  over  the  electric  wire.  This  was  more 
than  six  years  before  Mr.  Emerson's  death,  who  lived  to  see 
the  fulfilment  of  that  thought,  and  rejoiced  in  it  the  more 
because  it  was  so  legitimately  the  result  of  Dr.  Bell's  suc- 
cessful studies  in  one  of  the  most  humane  branches  of 
education.  He  saw  the  manner  in  which  sound  causes  vibra- 
tions of  the  atmosphere  to  act  upon  the  tympanum,  or  drum 
of  the  ear,  and  that  these  vibrations  are  carried  to  the  brain 
by  the  nerves ;  in  other  words,  that  the  Overruling  Power 
had  placed  a  telephone  in  every  human  head.  A  diaphragm 
was  then  formed  corresponding  to  the  tympanum.  This  as 
a  membrane  receives  the  vibrations ;  and  the  metallic  con- 
ductor, of  any  indefinable  length  (an  inch  or  a  thousand 
miles),  forms  the  nerve  along  which  the  electric  waves  of 
sound  move. 

Thus  did  the  originator  study  the  workings  of  the  Supreme 
Intelligence.  In  the  same  manner,  Smeaton,  when  about  to 
build  the  Eddystone  Lighthouse,  went  to  the  forest  to  study 
how  the  Creator  imparted  to  trees  strength  to  resist  the  storms, 
and  took  for  his  model  the  oak,  spreading  with  a  curve  from 
the  roots  and  curving  out  again  towards  the  branches.  So 
Harvey,  when  he  discovered  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
was  led  to  the  result  to  which  he  came,  by  observing  the 
system  of  valves  placed  at  various  sections  along  the  veins, 
allowing  the  blood  to  flow  but  one  way.  "  I  notice,"  he 
said,  "  that  everything  the  Great  Being  has  made  has  a 
purpose;  for  what  purpose,  then,  is  this?  "  The  answer  was 
found  in  his  great  discovery,  revealed  through  this  evidence 
of  prospective  design.  Thus  also  Dollond,  when  he  made 
his  most  important  improvements  in  the  telescope,  studied 
the  laws  of  the  refrangibility  of  light,  in  connection  with  the 
structure  of  the  human  eye.  He  who  said,  "  Let  light  be, 
and  light  was,"  had  made  exactly  the  provision  requisite;  and 


92 

precisely  the  same  arrangement  was  found  to  be  needed  in 
the  telescope.  Thus  nearly  every  discovery  in  science,  in 
mechanics,  and  in  art  has  been  anticipated  in  nature  ;  while 
that  which  is  most  in  harmony  with  the  underlying  and 
invisible  laws  of  the  universe  will  inevitably  endure  the 
longest  and  be  productive  of  the  most  good.  In  the  same 
manner  Nature  foreshadowed  the  telephone,  and  the  tele- 
phone is  one  of  the  wonderful  exponents  of  her  laws. 

In  nearly  all  cases  where  any  important  discovery  has  been 
made,  it  has  been  found  that  various  intelligent  and  active 
minds  have  been  earnestly  at  work  upon  the  same  problem. 
The  question  of  priority  has  been  before  the  courts  ;  and  so  far 
the  courts  have  decided  that  the  priority  belongs  to  Bell. 
Both  Judge  Lowell  and  Judge  Gra}^  gave  to  the  subject 
minute  investigation.  Judge  Gray's  decision  was  emphatic. 
"  Dr.  Bell,"  he  declares,  "  was  the  first  inventor  who  success- 
fully used  the  electric  current  for  the  transmission  of  articu- 
late sound."  To  him  belongs  the  credit  of  discovering  "  that 
undulatory  vibrations  of  electricity  can  intelligently  and  ac- 
curately transmit  articulate  sound,  and  by  him  was  invented 
the  process  by  which  he  reduced  his  discovery  to  practical 
use."  What  are  the  results?  Three  hundred  thousand 
telephones  are  at  this  time  in  daily  use  within  the  limits  of 
the  United  States.  They  are  in  constant  service  through 
nearly  all  the  countries  of  Europe.  They  are  to  be  found  in 
England,  France,  and  Spain,  Belgium  and  Germany.  They 
are  familiarly  known  in  the  great  cities,  —  St.  Petersburg, 
Moscow,  Warsaw,  Odessa,  Rome,  and  Naples.  They  are  alike 
in  the  workshop  and  the  palace,  in  the  drawing-room  and  the 
counting-room.  The  manufacturer  communicates  with  his 
workmen,  while  the  Czar  sits  in  his  palace  and  listens  to  the 
music  of  the  opera.  In  Cincinnati  one  hundred  and  thirty 
villages  within  a  radius  of  one  hundred  miles  have  been 
brought,  by  the  telephone,  within  speaking  distance.  Both 
Boston  and  Lowell  form  centres  connected  by  telephone 
with  yet  wider  circuits.  The  capacity  of  the  telephone  for 
use  over  long  distances  is  at  present  not  fully  known.  Con- 
versation can  usually  be  carried  on  with  ease  for  one  hun- 


93 

dred  miles,  and,  under  general  circumstances,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  is  not  too  far  for  ordinary  use.  Conversation 
has  been  carried  on  over  a  distance  of  four  hundred  miles ; 
and  in  another  instance  a  dialogue  took  place  with  satisfac- 
tory distinctness  by  friends  in  New  York  and  Cleveland. 
The  experiment  has  also  been  tried  of  speaking  from  New 
York  to  Chicago,  and  words  were  readily  exchanged  between 
those  places ;  but  the  general  use  of  the  telephone  over  so 
great  a  distance  remains  for  the  future  to  determine.  The 
extent  of  the  work  now  going  on  is  suggested  by  the  fact 
that  there  is  at  present  in  use  in  this  country  more  than 
twenty-five  thousand  miles  of  wire  ;  and  a  company  that 
struggled  hard  for  existence  in  the  earlier  period  of  its  life, 
have  cleared  themselves  from  all  serious  complications,  and 
report  their  earnings  for  the  last  year  as  $1,576,031.57.  In 
regard  to  Canada  they  have  control  of  the  whole  dominion, 
and  are  rapidly  increasing  their  operations.  The  same  work 
is  now  becoming  speedily  extended  through  South  America, 
at  Buenos  Ayres,  at  Rio  Janeiro,  at  Venezuela,  Rosario,  Santa 
Fe,  and  Cordova.  Not  many  years  ago,  much  was  said  of 
what  was  called  the  Whispering  Gallery,  in  old  St.  Paul's 
Church  of  London  ;  but  now  it  seems  hardly  too  much  to 
say,  the  people  of  the  whole  globe  may  speak  the  one  to  the 
other. 


DISCOVERIES  AND   INVENTIONS. 


WHEN  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  was 
originally  organized,  in  1779,  in  the  midst  of  the  exhausting 
contest  of  our  struggle  for  independence,  the  founders  of 
that  eminent  society  made  the  following  statement:  "Many 
important  European  discoveries  have  been  in  a  great  measure 
useless  to  this  part  of  the  world,  in  consequence  of  a  situation 
so  remote  from  the  ancient  seats  of  learning  and  improve- 
ment." What  would  those  able  men  have  thought,  the  lead- 
ing men  of  their  time,  if  they  could  have  witnessed,  with 
prophetic  foresight,  the  changes  which  in  one  century  have 
been  brought  about?  The  "situation  so  remote  "  seems  now 
less  distant.  Here  also,  from  the  seeds  they  scattered,  we 
have  our  own  "  ancient  seats  of  learning  and  improvement," 
which,  in  some  respects  at  least,  may  be  said  to  rival  those 
of  the  Old  World.  At  all  events,  we  are  not  so  far  separated 
as  to  prevent  our  working  in  harmony.  No  one  could 
realize  more  fully  the  privileges  they  enjoyed,  even  at  that 
trying  period,  than  did  those  noble  men.  "  The  citizens," 
they  say,  "  have  great  opportunities  and  advantages  for  mak- 
ing useful  experiments  and  improvements,  whereby  the  inter- 
ests and  happiness  of  the  rising  empire  may  be  essentially 
advanced.  .  .  .  Enjoying  that  freedom  which  is  propitious  to 
the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  which  expands  the  mind  and 
engages  it  to  noble  and  generous  pursuits,  they  have  a  stimu- 
lus to  enterprise  which  the  inhabitants  of  few  other  countries 
can  feel." 

How  truly  have  these  sagacious  and  inspiring  words  been 
verified  !  For  the  past  hundred  years  the  enjoyment  of  free- 
dom, the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  the  expansion  of  mind,  the 


95 

engagement  in  generous  pursuits,  have  given  a  stimulus  to 
enterprise,  and  led  to  unnumbered  discoveries  and  inventions 
in  every  branch  of  science  and  of  thought. 

If  you  turn  to  the  astronomer,  he  looks  to  the  heavens 
through  instruments  such  as  Galileo  never  knew.  What  to 
him  was  an  apparently  meaningless  blur, becomes  now  a  clearly 
defined  system  of  worlds  ;  size,  color,  motion,  are  perfectly 
distinct.  The  observer  is  lifted  to  a  higher  plane,  and  the 
curtains  of  space  are  drawn  aside.  If  you  turn  to  the  mi- 
croscopist,  the  invisible  realms  to  him  take  almost  colossal 
proportions.  The  minute  becomes  gigantic  ;  a  wing,  an  eye, 
a  hair,  suggests  ample  study  for  a  lifetime.  That  which 
once  no  mortal  could  even  behold,  displays  now  the  most 
perfect  organism,  supremely  exquisite  in  all  its  parts,  as  won- 
derful in  itself  as  the  myriads  of  worlds  that  are  revolving 
through  space.  Then,  what  separate  fields  are  presented  for 
investigation,  —  the  animal  kingdom,  the  vegetable  kingdom, 
physiological  and  structural  botany,  comparative  anatomy, 
the  mysterious  phenomena  of  growth  !  Objects  too  small 
for  the  unaided  sight  are  obliged  to  give  evidence  of  what 
they  are,  and  often  fill  the  mind  not  only  with  astonishment 
but  with  an  ecstasy  of  joy.  If  you  visit  the  laboratory,  you 
find  the  man  of  science  aided  in  all  his  studies  by  the  delicate 
instruments  which  have  been  devised  to  help  his  investiga- 
tions. He  is  making  the  most  astonishing  discoveries  through 
agencies  invented  for  him.  If  you  enter  a  factory,  amid  the 
whirl  of  machinery,  you  cannot  count  the  new  and  ingenious 
methods  of  facilitating  human  labor.  Iron  and  steel,  wood 
and  water,  seem  mellowed  with  thought.  Intelligently  they 
move  and  .toil  for  human  advantage.  If  you  go  into  the 
field  and  watch  the  husbandman,  you  find  him  ploughing, 
planting,  reaping,  raking,  binding,  threshing,  shelling,  all  by 
machinery.  The  most  curious  and  intricate  mechanism,  that 
looks  impracticable  for  common  uses,  works  like  a  human 
creature  for  the  benefit  of  man.  The  farmer  sits  and  looks  at 
the  upturned  furrow  and  the  gathered  harvest  with  wonder. 
If  you  enter  the  studio  of  the  photographer,  you  may  see, 
by  the  most  ethereal  process,  ra}rs  of  light  portraying  the 


96 

features  of  your  friend.  The  sun,  ninety  million  miles  distant, 
can  give  you,  with  one  touch,  the  countenance  of  eveiy  bene- 
factor you  have  ;  nay,  the  localities  you  have  taken  delight 
in,  the  mountain  or  valley,  lake  or  stream ;  the  scenes  you 
have  visited  abroad  or  would  like  to  visit ;  the  pyramids  and 
obelisks  and  antiquities  of  Egypt ;  the  places  most  sacredly 
associated  with  the  Saviour  through  the  Holy  Land ;  Spain 
with  the  lace-like  traceries  of  its  Alhambra,  Venice  with  its 
gondolas  floating  over  the  Grand  Canal.  Or,  if  you  prefer 
the  galleries  of  art,  you  have  the  counterparts  of  the  great 
masters,  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  Correggio,  and  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  not  indeed  in  their  original  greatness,  but  full  of 
suggestion,  and  all  drawn  with  a  pencil  of  light ;  or  if,  instead 
of  the  studio,  you  enter  the  hospital,  you  find,  through  yet 
another  extraordinary  discovery  of  science,  that  those  who 
were  but  a  moment  before  writhing  in  agony,  by  the  gentlest 
process,  are  relieved  of  all  pain.  The  surgeon  leans  over  and 
carefully  draws  his  knife,  while  the  patient  quietly  reposes  as 
if  in  sleep.  Dr.  Jackson,  who  suggested  the  use  of  ether 
to  produce  insensibility  to  pain,  lived  within  a  few  minutes' 
walk  of  Mr.  Emerson's  residence,  and  the  first  trials,  made  by 
others,  were  in  his  immediate  neighborhood.  He  knew  famil- 
iarly the  hospital  into  which  it  was  earliest  introduced ;  and 
the  discovery  and  application  of  anaesthesia,  which  he  lived  to 
see  extended  over  the  world,  he  counted  as  one  of  the  greatest 
benefactions  yet  bestowed  upon  mankind. 

Added  to  the  great  Scientific  Discoveries  which  largely 
helped  to  increase  the  growth  of  the  country  during  the 
period  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  must  be  considered  the  Inven- 
tions which  occupy  an  important  position  in  this  industrial 
era.  These  were  at  times  the  result  of  patient  study  and  elab- 
orate experiment,  and  at  times  they  may  have  flashed  upon  the 
thought  as  an  intuitive  creation.  Whatever  were  the  facts 
in  regard  to  this,  we  think  it  is  safe  to  sa}%  that  the  inven- 
tive genius  of  man  has  never  been  so  active,  or  accomplished 
so  much  within  the  same  space  of  time  to  advance  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization. 

What,  then,  was  the  condition  of  the  country  in  this  partic- 


97 


ular  when  Mr.  Emerson  entered  upon  his  career,  and  what 
changes  did  he  live  to  witness  ?  The  applications  made  at 
the  Patent  Office,  in  Washington,  are  a  safe  criterion  of  what 
is  transpiring.  In  1790,  including  the  whole  of  the  United 
States,  there  were  only  three  applications  for  patents ;  and 
through  seven  succeeding  years  the  whole  number  of  appli- 
cations only  reached  145,  —  on  an  average  but  a  little  over 
twenty  for  each  year.  During  the  year  in  which  Mr.  Emer- 
son entered  college  (1813)  the  whole  number  of  patents  ap- 
plied for  at  the  Patent  Office  from  the  entire  country  was 
181;  for  the  four  succeeding  years,  the  applications  for 
patents  at  Washington  were  as  follows  :  — 


1814 
1815 


210 
173 


1816 
1817 


206 
174 


making,  for  these  four  years,  763  applications  for  patents. 
In  the  year  1797,  the  year  in  which  Mr.  Emerson  was  born, 
the  number  of  applications  for  patents  was  51 ;  in  the  year 
he  died,  16,584,  —  an  actual  increase  of  16,533.  Nothing 
can  show  more  conclusively  the  activity  of  the  inventive 
faculty,  and  the  extraordinary  progress  made  in  that  depart- 
ment within  the  experience  of  one  individual. 


13 


THE   CIVIL  WAR 


IT  has  been  stated  in  the  foregoing  Memoir,  that  Mr.  Emer- 
son during  the  Civil  War  was  greatly  interested  in  the  educa- 
tion of  the  multitudes  of  freedmen  who  were  liberated  during 
the  war,  either  as  the  natural  result  of  the  great  struggle  or 
by  the  Act  of  Emancipation.  As  chairman  of  the  Educational 
Committee,  he  held  a  most  responsible  and  laborious  position. 
Thus  did  he  show  the  consistency  of  his  character,  and,  not 
satisfied  with  mere  words  of  approval,  he  desired  to  give 
practical  aid  to  a  work  which  so  deeply  interested  him.  To 
the  thousands  now  set  free,  education  of  some  kind  was  more 
important  than  ever.  New  duties  and  responsibilities  were 
opening  before  them  ;  how  imperative  that  they  should  be 
instructed  in  the  proper  way  of  meeting  them  !  But  it  seems 
hardly  fitting  that  this  single  feature  of  those  exciting  times 
should  be  alluded  to,  and  no  further  mention  made  of  one 
of  the  most  momentous  events  in  modern  history. 

Many  readers,  looking  upon  Mr.  Emerson's  life  superficially, 
might  suppose  that  it  was  a  life  of  almost  unbroken  tranquil- 
lity and  happiness ;  y"et  he  not  only  had  his  domestic  sorrows, 
but  he  passed  through  seasons  of  unwonted  commotion, — 
seasons  that  convulsed  the  nation,  and  taxed  to  the  utmost 
every  power  of  endurance.  No  one  who  was  not  living  dur- 
ing the  period  of  the  Civil  War,  can  easily  comprehend  the 
anxiety  through  which  whole  communities  passed.  Hardly 
was  there  a  family  from  which  some  loved  member  had  not 
gone  to  the  war;  hardly  was  there  a  hearthstone  where  there 
was  not  some  vacant  chair ;  and  how  many  young  and  fair 
and  noble  went  forth,  from  their  love  of  country  and  their 
devotion  to  the  right,  nevermore  to  return  ! 


99 

The  Civil  War  burst  like  a  tornado  over  the  land,  bringing 
bloodshed  and  desolation  in  its  career.  It  was  a  war  which 
in  certain  quarters  had  been  deliberately  planned,  —  the  ma- 
ture fruit  of  a  secret  purpose  cherished  for  years.  Every 
preparation  which  it  was  thought  would  secure  the  proposed 
ends  had  been  cautiously  made ;  military  stores  had  been 
transferred,  military  arrangements  for  defence  and  attack 
had  been  thoroughly  considered.  The  fires  of  animosity  had 
been  fanned  and  kindled  into  an  intense  heat.  Through  the 
loyal  States  there  was  no  preparation  for  such  a  condition  of 
affairs,  because  no  such  condition  of  affairs  was  even  sus- 
pected. When  the  facts  became  known,  astonishment  gave 
way  to  courageous  resolve.  As  the  hideous  features  of  this 
colossal  insurrection  were  unveiled,  it  awakened,  through  all 
the  loyal  States,  a  determination  and  patriotism  which  seemed 
universal  and  invincible.  Every  noble  element  was  at  once 
aroused.  No  sacrifice  was  too  great  to  be  readily  made  ;  no 
hardship  could  repel,  no  danger  intimidate.  Party  lines 
melted  into  air.  The  thought  of  minor  differences  vanished, 
while  all  united,  with  glowing  unity  of  feeling,  in  defence  of 
the  Government.  The  lumberman  in  the  forest,  the  farmer  in 
the  field,  the  mechanic  in  his  workshop,  the  merchant  in  his 
warehouse,  the  student  in  the  school,  the  academy,  and  the 
college,  —  all  listened  to  the  voice  of  their  country,  and  were 
ready  for  service.  It  was  no  hour  for  trifling.  With  all  it 
was  a  solemn  question  of  life  or  death.  This  was  no  holiday 
excitement ;  it  was  a  decision  that  involved  the  perpetuity 
of  freedom.  Through  the  Eastern  and  the  Middle  States 
and  all  the  Territories  of  the  great  Northwest,  from  Maine 
and  Massachusetts,  to  California  and  Oregon,  hundreds  of 
thousands  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  were  resolved  to  take  no 
step  backward  until  the  work  for  which  they  were  united 
was  fully  accomplished.  With  different  shades  of  opinion 
there  was  perfect  unity  in  regard  to  the  result,  and  a  grow- 
ing conviction  that  an  overruling  Providence  was  at  work 
for  the  fulfilment  of  beneficent  ends.  More  and  more  deeply 
was  it  felt,  with  every  progressive  movement,  that  a  higher 
than  mortal  power  was  to  accomplish  purposes  which  would 


100 

make  the  age  forever  memorable.  The  very  effort  to  per- 
petuate a  wrong  was  to  be  the  direct  means  of  extirpating 
it.  Armed  treason  rendered  the  act  of  emancipation  not  only 
legally  right,  but  an  absolute  necessity.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  war,  four  millions  of  human  beings  were  held  in  bondage  ; 
now,  as  we  gaze  back,  from  the  vantage  ground  of  the  present 
time,  and  search  carefully  over  this  wide  Republic,  we  see 
that  from  ocean  to  ocean  not  one  slave  exists.  Thus,  as 
the  dark  clouds  of  war  have  parted  and  rolled  away,  we  can 
behold  how  Providence  has  created  a  new  era  in  the  world's 
history. 

To  thoughtful  minds,  through  long  years,  one  terrible  prob- 
lem had  been  presenting  itself.  Freedom  and  slavery,  linked 
together,  formed  a  constant  incongruity.  Through  wide  terri- 
tories slave  markets  abounded,  where  human  beings,  male  and 
female,  old  and  young,  were  made  matters  of  traffic.  Often 
were  these  poor  creatures  driven  manacled,  under  the  lash  of 
the  overseer,  from  one  market  to  another.  The  whole  system 
was  appalling.  Monstrous  in  its  nature  and  fearful  in  its 
results,  its  antagonism  to  freedom,  as  well  as  its  essential 
barbarity,  was  deeply  and  widely  felt.  With  the  progress 
of  civilization,  and,  above  all,  with  the  advancement  of 
Christianity,  more  just  and  generous  views  could  not  but  take 
possession  of  the  human  mind. 

No  one  could  feel  more  profoundly  than  Mr.  Emerson 
whatever  was  associated  with  the  national  honor  and  life,  or 
cherish  a  firmer  faith  in  that  Providence  which  watches  over 
all,  bringing  good,  in  ways  least  expected,  out  of  apparent 
evil. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  sixty-four  years  of  age  when  Abraham 
Lincoln  was  chosen  President  of  the  United  States.  The  elec- 
tion was  peaceable  and  constitutional ;  as  much  so  as  the 
election  of  any  President,  from  the  time  of  Washington  on- 
wards. Each  step  had  been  in  harmony  with  the  letter  and 
spirit  of  the  Constitution  ;  yet,  notwithstanding  all  that  was 
both  generous  and  conciliatory,  this  event  was  made  the 
occasion  of  an  insurrection  so  bitter  and  violent  as  to  be 
without  a  parallel.  A  confederation  of  slave-holders  leagued 


101 

themselves  against  the  Government  of  the  nation,  only  too 
ready  to  insult  the  national  flag  and  to  trample  the  Constitu- 
tion under  its  feet. 

At  half-past  four  o'clock  on  Friday  morning,  April  12, 1861, 
the  American  flag  was  first  fired  upon,  while  the  bombard- 
ment of  Fort  Sumter  lasted  between  thirty  and  forty  hours. 
Red-hot  shell  and  shot  were  thrown  upon  the  fortress  erected 
by  the  United  States  Government  for  the  defence  of  Charles- 
ton. The  fortress  was  under  command  of  Major  Anderson, 
aided  by  a  handful  of  men  who  were  supposed  to  be  sufficient 
for  what  had  been  considered  a  time  of  peace.  The  fierce 
cannonading  thus  suddenly  opened,  was  steadily  continued 
until  the  fort  took  fire,  and  the  little  company  of  faithful 
men  were  hemmed  in  by  burning  rafters.  Presently  each 
building  was  in  flames,  and  even  the  granite  walls  of  the 
powder  magazine  were  shattered,  and  the  iron  doors  broken 
through,  while  it  was  expected  that  at  any  instant  might 
come  the  fatal  explosion.  Still,  even  then  the  American  flag 
held  its  place,  while  Anderson  and  his  men  were  true  to  their 
country.  At  length,  however,  the  force  brought  against 
them  was  too  great,  and  they  were  obliged  to  surrender. 
Yet  the  only  condition  upon  which  they  would  yield  was  that 
they  should  march  out  under  the  national  flag,  with  their 
colors  flying  and  drums  beating.  When  they  had  thus  left, 
the  next  act  of  rebellion  was  to  raise  the  Confederate  flag  in 
the  place  of  the  stars  and  stripes,  and  that  flag  of  the  Con- 
federates, it  \vas  declared,  should  soon  wave  over  the  Capitol 
at  Washington. 

Such  was  the  earliest  open  act  of  war.  This  outrage,  like 
an  electric  flash,  kindled  the  nation.  The  effect  through  the 
whole  North  and  West  was  amazing.  There  was  but  one 
sentiment  and  one  will. 

An  extra  session  of  Congress  was  at  once  called,  and  an 
order  issued  by  the  President  for  75,000  troops.  Within  two 
weeks,  in  answer  to  that  call,  300,000  men  had  voluntarily 
offered  their  services.  There  is  no  occasion  to  repeat  here 
facts  well  known  ;  it  is  enough  simply  to  state  that  Mr. 
Emerson  watched  with  earnest  feeling  the  vicissitudes  of 


102 

that  trying  time.  A  tempest  dark  and  dreadful  was  sweeping 
over  the  land ;  and  what  was  to  happen  next  was  beyond 
human  power  to  foretell.  But  with  Mr.  Emerson  faith  was 
ever  dominant.  He  witnessed  with  joy  the  enthusiastic  loy- 
alty which  universally  prevailed.  Everywhere  the  highest 
intelligence  and  truest  strength  of  the  country  was  repre- 
sented. No  class  of  men  held  back ;  while  thousands  upon 
thousands  offered  their  services,  and  were  ready,  if  need  be, 
to  give  their  lives  for  their  country. 

Through  four  successive  years  Mr.  Emerson  watched  with 
anxious  solicitude  the  result  of  the  conflict.  With  each 
defeat  he  felt  a  pang,  and  with  each  success,  gratitude  and 
exultation.  The  battle  of  Malvern  Hill  and  in  the  Wilder- 
ness of  Virginia,  the  capture  of  Savannah  and  New  Orleans, 
the  struggle  above  the  clouds  on  Lookout  Mountain,  and  the 
march  from  Atlanta,  —  all  these  seemed  to  pass  before  his  eye. 
The  conflicts  at  Fort  Donelson,  Chattanooga,  Antietam  and 
Gettysburg,  Winchester  and  Nashville,  Vicksburg  and  Mobile, 
brought  a  throb  to  his  heart.  He  lived  to  read  the  account 
of  six  hundred  battles,  in  which  multitudes  laid  down  their 
lives.  He  saw  Massachusetts  alone  contribute  one  hundred 
and  sixty  thousand  men  to  the  army  and  navy,  and  expend 
twenty-eight  million  dollars  from  her  treasury.  At  one  time 
more  than  a  million  men  were  in  the  service  ;  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  alone  numbered  two  hundred  thousand.  The  State 
of  Ohio,  within  four  weeks,  organized  and  placed  in  the  field 
forty-two  regiments  of  infantry,  —  nearly  thirty-six  thousand 
men.  Eighty-four  thousand  well-mounted  cavalry  were  in 
the  service. 

All  this  was  requisite  to  keep  at  bay  the  armed  forces 
arrayed  against  the  Government ;  to  check  that  slave-power 
which  was  determined  to  fortify  and  extend  its  system,  — that 
persistent  treason  which  would  allow  nothing  to  escape  its 
grasp  by  which  it  might  strike  a  death-blow  at  the  Republic, 
and  shatter  the  Union  into  fragments. 

If  Mr.  Emerson  had  turned  to  the  "London  Times,"  in 
1861,  he  might  have  read  such  startling  lines  as  these  :  "The 
crash  of  the  New  World  !  "  "  The  bubble  has  broken  !  " 


103 

"  All  the  institutions  and  destinies  of  that  mighty  Union 
are  scattered !  "  "  In  fact,  the  United  States  of  North 
America  have  ceased  to  be ! "  That  such  was  the  hope, 
of  at  least  a  few,  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean,  there 
can  be  no  doubt;  but  such  was  not  the  aspect  of  things 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Not  for  a  moment  was  the 
general  faith  shaken  ;  and  we  think  we  can  truly  add,  that 
not  even  for  one  instant  did  the  determination  of  the  peo- 
ple waver  in  regard  to  carrying  the  work  they  had  com- 
menced triumphantly  through.  There  was  probably  not 
a  city,  or  town,  or  village  in  New  England  that  was  not 
represented  on  the  battle-field  ;  father  and  son  at  times 
standing  shoulder  to  shoulder,  while  mothers  and  sisters  and 
daughters  were  watching  in  hospitals  or  laboring  with  the 
Sanitary  Commission.  So,  too,  New  York  and  Pennsylvania, 
Ohio  and  Michigan,  Iowa  and  Nebraska,  Minnesota,  Montana, 
and  Wisconsin,  were  all  pledged  irrevocably  to  free  labor, 
while  their  strong  and  stalwart  men  stood  firm  and  immov- 
able by  the  integrity  of  the  Union.  And  so,  also,  California, 
at  the  extremest  line  of  the  Union,  with  nothing  but  the 
Pacific  Ocean  between  it  and  China,  not  only  sent  men  in 
full  numbers,  again  and  again,  to  aid  the  great  cause,  but 
she  poured  forth  her  silver  and  gold  without  stint  for  that 
good  Samaritan-work  of  the  war,  the  Sanitary  Commission. 

The  foundations  of  this  Government  were  not  laid  upon 
"  unrequited  toil."  In  the  Declaration  of  the  founders  it  was 
proclaimed  that  all  men  had  an  inalienable  right  to  life,  lib- 
erty, and  the  pursuit  of  happiness;  which  was  a  simple  recog- 
nition of  that  brotherhood  of  man  revealed  by  Christ,  the 
divine  germ  of  true  liberty,  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  Re- 
public. In  this  struggle  slavery  and  freedom  were  brought 
face  to  face.  The  advocates  of  slavery  forced  it  to  be  so. 
With  a  wild  infatuation  they  compelled  a  decision.  With 
their  own  hands  they  fired  the  train  that  was  to  explode 
the  evil  they  cherished.  By  a  righteous  retribution  the 
very  system  of  slavery  which  had  created  the  war  must, 
by  the  inherent  laws  connected  with  that  war,  become 
exterminated. 


104 

In  September  of  1862  the  preliminary  proclamation  by  the 
President  was  made  public,  and  in  January  of  1863  the  great 
Proclamation  of  Freedom  was  issued  by  the  head  of  the 
nation,  as  commander-in-chief  of  the  army  and  navy.  Thus 
the  millions  of  human  beings  who  had  been  held  in  bondage 
were  declared  to  be  freemen  forevermore.  Slavery  had  al- 
ready been  abolished  in  the  District  of  Columbia  by  an  Act 
of  Congress  ;  it  had  been  prohibited  by  law  throughout  the 
Territories  ;  and  now  it  was  swept  from  all  the  States  in 
active  rebellion.  According  to  the  usages  of  military  ser- 
vice this  declaration  was  irrevocable.  The  measure  in  itself 
was  an  act  of  self-preservation ;  but  it  was  none  the  less  a 
deed  of  justice  and  humanity.  Thus  was  accomplished  one 
of  the  most  essential  steps  towards  the  utter  extinction  of 
slavery,  and  the  establishment  of  consistent  and  universal 
freedom.  A  result  of  such  immeasurable  consequence  could 
not  but  be  recognized  among  all  nations  as  an  event  of 
momentous  import.  It  formed,  beyond  all  question,  an  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  country  and  a  new  era  in  the  progress 
of  mankind. 

The  Proclamation  of  the  President  was  received  through 
all  the  loyal  States  with  expressions  of  joy.  The  re-election 
of  President  Lincoln  was  a  testimony  of  popular  approval. 
The  votes  of  both  houses  of  Congress  prohibiting  slavery 
throughout  the  Republic  made  doubly  the  Act  of  Emancipa- 
tion a  vital  reality ;  and  to  establish  yet  more  fully  this  great 
measure,  it  was  resolved  by  both  houses  of  Congress  to  sub- 
mit to  the  legislatures  of  the  several  States  the  Constitutional 
Amendment;  and  on  the  18th  day  of  December,  1865,  the 
Hon.  William  H.  Sevvard,  as  Secretary  of  State,  officially  pro- 
claimed the  ratification  of  the  amendment,  and  certified  that 
it  had  become  a  part  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 
Thus,  by  the  act  of  the  President,  the  approval  of  the  two 
houses  of  Congress,  and  finally  by  the  emphatic  affirmation  of 
the  whole  people,  was  slavery  forever  overthrown  throughout 
the  entire  land.  "Never  until  now,"  wrote  Mr.  William  C. 
Bryant,  "  could  we  say  that  slavery  has  been  abolished  by 
the  solemn  verdict  and  sentence  of  the  nation.  The  formal 


105 

assent  of  twenty-seven  States  to  the  repeal  of  the  law  of 
bondage  has  snapped  the  last  link  of  the  fetters  which  galled 
the  limbs  of  four  millions  of  God's  children  and  our  brethren." 
"It  puts  the  seal,"  he  emphatically  adds,  —  "a  seal  never  to 
be  broken,  —  upon  the  mouth  of  the  bottomless  pit  into  which 
that  foul  abomination  has  been  thrown." 

Thus  did  Mr.  Emerson  live  to  see  the  Government  he  hon- 
ored, in  the  hour  of  its  bitterest  trial,  most  nobly  defended ; 
the  rebellion,  with  its  threats  of  destruction,  utterly  over- 
thrown ;  and  slavery,  which  was  always  a  source  of  conten- 
tion, and  which  was  to  have  been  the  chief  corner-stone  of  the 
new  confederacy,  wholly  and  forever  abolished.  Not  many 
periods  in  all  the  past  history  of  the  race  have  been  so  memo- 
rable. And  among  the  many  who  rejoiced  in  the  result,  no 
one  could  do  so  more  heartily  than  George  B.  Emerson.  This 
was  to  him,  as  it  was  to  Abraham  Lincoln,  "under  God,  a 
new  birth  of  Freedom  ;"  and  he  could  joyfully  respond  to  the 
emphatic  language  of  the  President,  as  if  it  contained  the 
answer  to  his  most  fervent  prayers  :  "  The  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,  shall  not  perish  from 
the  earth." 

"  Let  us  never  doubt,"  said  Abraham  Lincoln,  "  that  a  just 
God,  in  his  own  good  time,  will  give  us  the  rightful  result." 
As  he  journeyed  towards  the  scene  of  his  inauguration  he  said, 
"  Without  a  name,  without  a  reason  why  I  should  have  a  name, 
there  has  fallen  upon  me  a  task  such  as  did  not  rest  even 
upon  the  Father  of  his  Country.  On  the  Almighty  Being  I 
place  my  reliance.  Pray  that  I  may  receive  that  Divine  assist- 
ance, without  which  I  cannot  succeed,  but  with  which  success 
is  certain."  To  the  disaffected  he  said,  "  You  can  have  no 
conflict  without  being  yourselves  the  aggressors."  The  prin- 
ciple he  started  with,  and  the  principle  he  clung  to,  was  this : 
"  A  house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand.  The  Govern- 
ment cannot  permanently  endure,  half  slave  and  half  free. 
The  Union  will  not  be  dissolved,  but  the  house  will  cease  to 
be  divided."  This  he  lived  to  see  verified.  Sagacious, 
honest,  and  true,  he  fulfilled  his  work ;  and  at  length, 
ki  with  malice  towards  none  and  with  charity  for  all,"  he 

14 


106 

saw  a  united  country  and  a  free  people.  For  him  every 
loyal  heart  cherished  admiration  and  gratitude  ;  once  again 
tranquillity  prevailed,  wh'ile  victorious  armies  were  quietly 
returning  to  their  peaceful  homes. 

But  just  then  one  more  dark  deed  was  to  exemplify  the 
spirit  of  the  rebellion.  At  a  moment  when  he  least  thought 
of  it,  unguarded  and  unsuspecting,  the  good  President  fell, 
mortally  wounded,  under  the  hand  of  an  assassin. 

It  was  in  harmony  with  many  appalling  deeds  that  had 
gone  before.  The  sick-room  of  William  H.  Seward,  Secretary 
of  State,  at  the  same  time  was  entered  by  an  accomplice  of  the 
assassin,  and  the  Secretary  was  stabbed  three  times  with  a 
bowie-knife,  while  General  Grant  and  others  were  marked 
as  intended  victims,  but  almost  miraculously  escaped.  Such 
was  the  closing  crime  of  the  rebellion.  The  telegraph  carried 
swift  word  over  the  country  of  this  terrible  deed,  while  amid 
tolling  bells  and  the  sound  of  minute-guns  a  people  bowed 
in  anguish.  The  seal  of  martyrdom  had  been  put  upon  the 
President's  career. 

Thus  much  is  stated  respecting  the  Civil  War  and  the 
great  Act  of  Emancipation,  because  they  were  subjects  of  deep 
interest,  affecting  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  and  because  his  position 
as  chairman  of  the  Educational  Committee  led  him,  in  con- 
nection with  the  war,  to  important  labors  for  the  instruction 
of  freedmen,  who  were  liberated  by  thousands  during  the 
war,  —  forlorn  creatures,  utterly  ignorant,  but  eager  to  learn. 
This  truly  philanthropic  mission  sought  the  industrial,  social, 
intellectual,  and  religious  improvement  of  that  large  class  of 
persons  who,  as  the  armies  advanced,  had  been  released  from 
slavery.  Grateful  beyond  measure,  they  let  110  opportunity 
of  gaining  infofmation  pass  unimproved.  Thousands  upon 
thousands  flocked  to  the  Union  army,  rendering  valuable 
assistance;  and  so  important  was  their  aid,  that  they  were 
cordially  welcomed  through  all  departments  of  the  public 
service.  Multitudes  of  blacks  were  wandering  over  planta- 
tions deserted  by  their  former  masters,  without  control  or 
guidance;  but,  docile  as  little  children,  they  gathered  con- 
fidingly about  the  teachers,  asking  if  they  could  be  taught 


107 

how  to  write  and  to  read.  The  old  and  the  infirm,  as  well  as 
the  vigorous  and  strong,  were  earnest  to  learn.  Mr.  Emerson, 
by  his  aid  in  selecting  and  sending  teachers  to  this  new  and 
untried  field  of  labor,  showed  his  Christian  benevolence,  his 
intelligent  zeal,  and  the  unwavering  consistency  of  his 
character. 


THE   STATE  OF  ILLINOIS   DURING  THE  WAR. 


IN  the  year  1866  (the  year  following  the  close  of  the  Civil 
War),  Mr.  Waterston  was  chosen  chairman  of  the  Committee 
to  write  the  School  Report  for  the  City  of  Boston.  During 
that  year  he  visited  the  South  and  the  West,  and  included  in 
his  Report  the  result  of  his  observations  in  those  sections  of 
the  country.  He  takes  the  liberty  of  introducing  here  a  pas- 
sage respecting  the  State  of  Illinois,  as  an  illustration  of  what 
was  going  on  during  that  great  national  struggle.  This  is 
simply  what  one  State  was  doing  in  company  with  many 
others ;  showing  how  earnestly  they  were  ready  to  stand  by 
their  country.  In  doing  this  they  by  no  means  neglected  the 
best  interests  of  their  State,  and  among  those  interests  none 
was  more  prominent  than  the  cause  of  education.  Nothing 
can  exemplify  more  fully  the  spirit  of  the  people,  or  reflect 
greater  honor  upon  their  character. 

ILLINOIS. 

The  State  of  Illinois  contributed  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
million  of  men  for  the  national  defence.  Teachers  and  pupils 
went  side  by  side  into  the  battle-field.  Literall}',  thousands 
of  teachers  left  the  school-room  for  the  camp.  From  the 
Illinois  College,  in  1864,  the  whole  senior  class,  after  having 
been  examined  for  their  degree,  marched  in  a  body  to  the 
war,  the  professor  at  their  head.  The  famous  Thirty-third 
Infantry  was  largely  composed  of  students.  From  various 
colleges,  4,498  alumni  and  students  went  to  the  war.  One 
college  sent  seven  hundred,  —  of  whom  one  hundred  fell  in 
the  service.  Such  is  the  record  of  a  State  which  sent  two 
hundred  and  fifty-six  thousand  men  to  the  war,  while  at  that 


109 

very  time  she  was  erecting  more  school-houses  than  ever 
before,  and  at  a  larger  aggregate  cost ;  and,  in  addition  to 
all  she  was  so  nobty  doing  for  the  Government  in  money  and 
men,  she  was  also  contributing  an  unprecedented  amount  for 
education  throughout  the  State.  Within  two  years  1,122 
school  buildings  Avere  erected,  of  a  superior  order,  at  an 
aggregate  cost  of  $1,305,961,  and  this  by  voluntary  local 
taxation,  —  a  fact,  under  the  circumstances,  probably  without 
a  parallel.  In  1865  Illinois  contributed  $475,072  for  new 
school-houses;  and  in  1866,  the  princely  sum  of  $830,889, — 
an  increase  over  the  previous  year  of  $355,817,  and  over  that 
of  1864  by  $610,853. 

The  number  of  scholars  enrolled  through  the  State,  for  the 
year  ending  Sept.  30,  1866,  was  614,659,  —  an  increase  of 
more  than  forty  thousand  within  two  years.  Between  1860 
and  1866,  while  so  large  a  number  of  male  teachers  were 
absent  at  the  war,  the  number  of  female  teachers  increased 
by  3,965,  who  came  in  to  make  good  the  place  of  those  who 
had  gone.  The  money  assessed  in  the  State  for  the  support  of 
common  schools,  within  eleven  years,  has  been  $7,492,974.51, 
—  nearly  seven  and  a  half  million  dollars  ;  but,  added  to  this, 
there  has  been  a  voluntary  local  taxation,  amounting  in  ten 
years  to  over  thirteen  millions  ($13,000,166)  ;  so  that,  munifi- 
cent as  has  been  the  aid  of  the  State,  still  more  munificent 
has  been  the  voluntary  contribution  of  the  people,  —  the 
people  having  generously  given  two  dollars  for  every  one 
appropriated  by  the  State, — so  that  actually  within  ten  years 
the  combined  sums  have  reached  the  incredible  amount  of 
nearly  twenty  million  dollars  ($19,886,331).  Romance  is 
less  wonderful  than  reality,  when  reality  can  present  facts 
like  these.  What  page  that  history  has  ever  written  surpasses 
in  true  interest  such  a  recital  ? 


SCHOOLS  FOR  THE  FREEDMEN. 


HAVING  presented  some  statements  respecting  education  in 
Ohio,  Kentucky,  Missouri,  Wisconsin,  Michigan,  Minnesota, 
and  other  States  at  the  West,  an  account  was  given,  in  the 
same  Report,  of  efforts  exerted  in  behalf  of  the  freedmen, 
respecting  which  allusion  has  been  made  in  dwelling  upon 
Mr.  Emerson's  duties  as  chairman  of  the  Committee  on 
Teachers. 

The  writer  of  this  was  for  some  time  one  of  the  committee, 
and  can  bear  testimony  to  the  devotion  of  the  teachers  and 
to  the  exceeding  interest  and  value  of  the  schools.  He 
will  only  here  speak  of  his  visit  to  the  schools  in  Wash- 
ington and  Richmond,  which  may  have  the  greater  interest 
because  it  refers  to  the  year  the  war  closed,  and  states  what 
was  going  on  at  that  moment. 

In  Washington,  the  capital  of  the  country,  where  the  sub- 
ject of  education  is  attracting  new  attention,  the  schools  for 
the  freedmen,  under  the  direction  of  teachers  from  the  North- 
ern States,  formed  the  special  object  of  observation.  Nothing 
can  surpass  the  devotedness  of  the  teachers,  or  the  hearty  zeal 
of  the  pupils.  A  more  inspiring  sight  the  human  eye  cannot 
rest  upon,  alike  honorable  to  teacher  and  taught. 

In  Richmond,  while  the  old  slave-markets  are  deserted,  the 
schools  for  the  freedmen  are  thronged.  The  halls  of  the 
Capitol,  where  the  officials  of  the  attempted  confederacy  met, 
are  now  empty;  while  the  poor  and  the  ignorant,  with  a  free- 
dom they  never  enjoyed  before,  gladly  assemble  in  every 
place  which  can  be  obtained,  eager  to  gain  knowledge.  Under 
the  broad  folds  of  the  national  banner,  teachers  are  earnestly 
imparting  instruction.  There  it  was  we  heard  the  children 


Ill 

of  those  who,  until  the  Federal  armies  entered  Richmond, 
never  knew  from  personal  experience  what  liberty  is,  sing 
with  an  outburst  of  honest  enthusiasm,  "  The  Battle  Hymn 
of  the  Republic."  Intelligent  teachers  from  the  North,  both 
from  the  East  and  the  West,  are  actively  engaged  in  this 
work,  laying  the  strong  foundations  of  future  peace  and 
prosperity. 

The  intelligence  of  the  Northern  armies  not  only  gave 
them  skill,  but  clothed  them  with  added  power.  Wherever 
they  went,  enterprise,  knowledge,  and  all  the  accompaniments 
of  a  higher  civilization  went  with  them.  Along  the  whole 
line  of  the  camp-fires  school-houses  sprang  up.  An  army  of 
teachers  followed  close  upon  the  army  with  bayonets;  and 
before  the  clouds  of  strife  had  rolled  away,  seeds  of  blessing 
were  scattered  in  the  very  furrows  of  battle. 

That  good  work  is  still  going  on.  More  than  a  thousand 
teachers,  in  the  spirit  of  a  disinterested  patriotism,  are  at  this 
moment  instructing  through  the  South  over  one  hundred 
thousand  persons,  young  and  old ;  diffusing  the  light  of 
knowledge  where  it  meets  with  a  joyful  welcome.  Thus  are 
these  great  civilizing  instrumentalities  insuring  the  moral  and 
intellectual  elevation  of  the  people. 


NOTE.  —  Many  of  the  teachers  who  went  at  that  time  to  the  South 
were  possessed  of  uncommon  ability,  and  from  their  deep  sympathy  in 
the  work,  gave  up  important  positions  at  home,  that  they  might  aid  in 
this  labor.  From  the  letters  of  that  period,  the  following,  by  William 
Lloyd  Garrison,  is  selected,  because  it  refers  to  Mr.  Emerson,  and  also 
to  one  who,  interested  in  the  freedmen,  was  desirous  of  doing  whatever 
might  be  in  his  power  for  the  welfare  of  his  people. 

SEPTEMBER  7, 1863. 
RET.  MR.  WATERSxoy. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  Allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  the  bearer  of  this,  Mr. 
A.  M.  Lafferty,  who,  though  of  African  descent,  gives  little  indication  of 
his  nativity.  By  the  testimonials  he  will  lay  before  you,  you  will  see  that 
he  has  graduated  with  high  honors  at  the  University  in  Toronto,  as  a 


112 

mathematical  and  classical  scholar.     His  case  is  one  possessing  peculiar 
interest  ;  and  at  the  request  of  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson,  he  calls  upon  you 
prior  to  the  meeting  of  the  Educational  Commission,  on  Wednesday  next, 
and  with  reference  to  the  elevation  of  the  freed  people  of  the  South. 
Yours,  for  light  and  liberty, 

WILLIAM  LLOYD  GAHRISON. 

This  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Emerson,  in  one  of  his  many  labors 
connected  with  the  Educational  Commission,  and  suggests,  in  some 
degree,  the  spirit  of  the  times. 


GEORGE   B.  EMERSON  AND   KING'S  CHAPEL. 


MR.  EMERSON,  through  all  the  years  of  his  Boston  life,  was 
not  only  a  constant  attendant  at  the  services  of  this  ancient 
and  historical  church,  reaching  back  into  the  colonial  days, 
but  as  an  honored  and  beloved  member,  became  the  recipient 
of  many  tokens  of  confidence  and  respect.  The  following 
statement  is  by  the  Rev.  Henry  W.  Foote,  the  pastor  of  the 
church.  In  an  accompanying  note  'he  says :  — 

MY  DEAU  MR.  WATERSTON,  —  I  am  much  gratified  by  your 
request,  and  shall  be  glad  of  the  opportunity  to  send  you  something 
about  our  dear  old  friend  Mr.  Emerson,  especially  in  his  parish 
relations  at  King's  Chapel. 

With  sincerest  regard, 

Faithfully  yours, 

HENRY  W.  FOOTE. 

"  Mr.  George  B.  Emerson  was,  through  all  the  active  days 
of  his  city  life,  a  constant  attendant  at  King's  Chapel.  He 
was  the  chosen  friend  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Greenwood,  whose 
tastes  in  natural  history  he  shared.  To  him  he  looked  as 
the  religious  teacher  who  most  satisfied  his  spiritual  nature. 
It  is  a  special  pleasure  to  speak  of  one  who  so  earnestly  loved 
this  church,  and  who  became  identified  with  its  best  thoughts 
and  interests.  He  was  a  member  of  the  vestr}r  from  1841 
to  1866,  being  also  junior  warden  in  1843—44,  and  senior 
warden  from  1845  to  1853,  and  again  from  1863  to  1866. 

"  The  impressive  duty  was  delegated  to  him  of  inducting 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Ephraim  Peabody  into  his  official  relations  as 
minister  of  the  gospel  in  this  place.  He  was  intrusted  with 
the  same  duty  when  the  present  pastor  was  publicly  inducted 
into  his  office.  It  is  the  custom  of  this  ancient  church,  at  the 

15 


114 

installation  of  its  ministers,  that  the  sermon  in  which  the 
new  clergyman  addresses  the  people  shall  be  preceded  by 
an  address  from  the  senior  warden ;  to  this  the  pastor  makes 
a  brief  reply.  The  minister  is  then  presented  with  a  Bible, 
as  containing  the  holy  oracles  of  Almighty  God,  a  due 
observance  being  solemnly  enjoined  of  all  the  precepts  therein 
contained,  particularly  those  connected  with  the  duty  and 
office  of  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  No  more  striking  proof  can  be  given  of  the  respect  in 
which  Mr.  Emerson  was  held  by  the  church  and  congregation 
than  the  fact  that  he  was  thus  requested,  on  occasions  of 
such  importance,  to  act  as  their  representative. 

"All  the  daily  duties  of  his  life  exemplified  his  professions 
here.  His  work  as  a  teacher  was  a  perpetual  self-consecra- 
tion to  the  highest  purposes  of  existence.  To  the  cause  of 
education  he  brought  fine  gifts  of  talent  and  culture.  This 
work  he  ennobled  as  a  calling  for  all  who  should  come  after 
him.  For  thirty  years,  with  wonderful  success,  he  devoted 
himself  to  that  genuine  education  which  consists  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  powers  ; 
and  he  thus  trained  more  than  one  generation  of  the  best 
women  in  the  community  to  an  intelligent  interest  in  all  that 
is  good,  whether  in  literature  or  in  life.  His  shaping  im- 
press is  seen  in  the  characters  of  many,  now  in  middle  life 
or  beyond  it,  who  are  acknowledged  as  among  the  noblest 
and  most  useful  members  of  society  throughout  the  country. 

"  The  personal  quality  of  the  man  was  felt  in  all  that  he 
did.  Animated  by  enthusiasm  and  free  from  selfishness,  he 
was  ever  ready  to  contribute  valuable  aid,  whether  in  the  field 
of  public  duty  or  literary  service,  and  was  quick  to  answer 
each  appeal  that  was  so  fortunate  as  to  gain  his  approval  in 
the  multifarious  calls  of  philanthropy.  Thus  every  good  per- 
son and  every  worthy  cause  found  in  him  a  friend.  Sparing 
upon  himself,  he  was  lavish  of  his  means  and  his  time  to  all 
that  touched  his  sympathy.  With  such  a  spirit  it  was  natural 
that  he  should  hold  the  relationship  of  counsellor  and  friend 
to  very  many  who  felt  that  they  owed  to  him  the  opening  of 
a  better  life. 


115 

"  Certainly  no  one  connected  with  the  society,  where, 
through  so  many  years,  I  have  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  his 
counsel  and  friendship,  has  been  more  desirous  to  see  the 
church  warm  with  charity  and  alive  with  good  works ;  full  of 
faith  and  of  prayer. 

"  Through  his  whole  life  he  was  loyal  to  the  Master  of 
Christendom  in  the  spirit  of  a  little  child. 

"  To  King's  Chapel,  as  his  place  of  worship,  he  became 
strongly  attached  in  his  early  manhood,  and  with  continued 
love  and  devotion  he  gladly  attended  its  services  until  pre- 
vented by  the  infirmities  of  age.  In  his  greatly  advanced 
years,  the  shadows  of  earth  fell  about  him  for  a  little,  before 
he  passed  into  the  Eternal  Light." 


MEN   OF  THOUGHT, 

WHO   PREPARED    THE    WAY   FOR   WHAT    WAS    TO   FOLLOW. 


PREVIOUS  to  the  commencement  of  this  century  there  ap- 
peared to  prevail  a  general  apathy  in  regard  to  the  physical 
sciences.  The  minds  of  men,  if  they  were  active,  were  pre- 
occupied by  other  themes.  Shadows,  as  in  twilight,  seemed 
resting  over  all.  Suddenly  thought  was  aroused.  A  rapid 
development  took  place  on  every  side  ;  it  was  like  the  open- 
ing of  spring  after  winter.  Copernicus,  Kepler,  Galileo, 
and  Newton,  in  their  time,  had  done  a  marvellous  work,  a 
work  destined  to  affect  all  coming  generations.  What  they 
achieved  had  been  in  a  measure  recognized,  and  was  be- 
coming more  and  more  fully  understood ;  so  that  their  names 
are  shining  to-day  over  the  civilized  world  with  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun.  Nothing  they  discovered  will  ever  sink 
into  oblivion.  Not  one  truth  will  be  forgotten.  The  full 
result  only  waits  for  the  right  moment.  When  minds  gifted 
with  sufficient  comprehension  shall  arrive,  then  whatever 
has  been  once  seen,  will  again  stand  unveiled.  But  if  there 
is  no  appreciating  mind,  the  truth  may  tarry  for  a  thousand 
years,  and  will  be  found  as  fresh  at  the  end  of  that  time  as  it 
was  at  the  beginning.  It  is  the  seeing  eye  and  the  rightly 
observing  mind  that  is  needed. 

In  this  opening  century  minds  full  of  vitality  were  at 
work.  Then  it  was  found  that  all  that  had  been  uttered 
through  the  ages  was  quite  at  the  service  of  such  as  could 
use  it.  It  was  as  if  the  very  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
had  opened  celestial  doors,  and  offered  up  freely  its  untold 
treasures.  A  new  era  had  evidently  dawned.  The  human 


117 

mind  was  eager  to  grapple  with  truth  ;  the  great  mass  of  the 
people  were  longing  for  a  larger  development  of  intellectual 
power.  So  intense  was  the  mental  activity  that  electric 
influences  appeared  to  fill  the  very  air. 

It  is  interesting  to  turn  to  those  men  of  thought  who  at  the 
time  of  Mr.  Emerson's  birth,  or  immediately  before,  were 
preparing  the  way  for  what  was  to  follow. 

Only  nineteen  years  had  passed  since  Linnaeus  was  still 
pursuing  his  botanical  researches,  with  that  originality  and 
devotion  which  have  made  his  name  immortal ;  sending  an 
impetus  not  only  through  Sweden,  but  over  countries  far 
remote.  Watt  and  Stevenson  were  busily  engaged  in  their 
great  mechanical  discoveries  ;  Laplace,  with  unflagging  zeal, 
was  investigating  various  physical  phenomena,  and  solving 
hitherto  baffling  problems  in  mathematical  science  ;  Cuvier, 
at  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  had  been  elected  a  member  of 
the  National  Institute  of  France,  in  recognition  of  his  intel- 
lectual achievements  ;  Alexander  von  Humboldt,  born  the 
same  year  with  Cuvier,  having  finished  his  studies  at  the 
university,  had  taken  his  first  scientific  journey  with  his  friend 
Foster  on  the  Rhine,  and  completed  his  earliest  pamphlet. 
The  year  that  Emerson  was  born,  Humboldt,  in  the  vigor  of 
his  twenty-fifth  year,  was  at  Jena,  in  friendly  intercourse  with 
Goethe  and  Schiller.  Goethe,  on  his  return  to  Weimar, 
writes :  "'  My  natural  history  studies  have  been  roused  from 
their  winter  sleep  by  Humboldt's  presence."  And  Schiller 
dwells  upon  Humboldt's  kindling  enthusiasm  in  the  prospect 
of  his  proposed  travels  through  Italy,  Spain,  and  America. 
Sir  Humphry  Davy  was  a  young  man  just  entering  seriously 
upon  the  study  of  chemistry.  When  Emerson  was  twenty- 
three,  Davy  was  elected  president  of  the  Royal  Society  and 
when  he  was  thirt3~-two,  Davy  had  finished  his  brilliant 
career.  In  1812,  when  Emerson  was  fifteen,  Faraday  became, 
through  Sir  Humphry  Davy's  appointment,  assistant  in  the 
laboratory  of  the  Royal  Institution.  It  was  with  reference  to 
this  that  in  after  years,  when  Davy  was  asked  what  he 
counted  as  his  chief  discovery,  he  replied  that  he  had  always 
considered  his  greatest  discovery  was  Michael  Faraday ! 


118 

Arago  was  Mr.  Emerson's  senior  by  eleven  years,  while  Sir 
John  Herschel  was  his  senior  but  five  years ;  both  were  in 
active  service  through  nearly  all  of  Mr.  Emerson's  life,  the 
latter  dying  exactly  ten  years  before  him.  Charles  Darwin 
was  born  when  Emerson  was  eleven  years  old.  He  made  his 
first  contribution  to  natural  history  in  1826,  when  Emerson 
was  twenty-nine  years  of  age  ;  he  died  in  1882,  aged  seventy- 
three,  one  year  after  Emerson,  and  his  name  is  now  inscribed 
in  Westminster  Abbe}*,  near  that  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  Thus 
did  Emerson  live  to  see  Davy  and  Darwin,  Humboldt  and 
Herschel,  Babbage  and  Buckland,  Spencer,  Huxley,  and  Tyn- 
dall,  and  a  host  of  others,  all  earnestly  engaged  in  specu- 
lative thought,  and  untiring  in  their  scientific  investigations. 
As  we  reflect,  such  minds  multiply  and  brighten,  like  the 
constellations  of  Orion  and  the  Pleiades,  and  the  great  belt  of 
the  Milky  Way,  stretching  across  the  whole  heavens. 


EMERSON  AND   HIS   FRIENDS. 

LIVING   MEN   OF   THE   TIME   EFFICIENT   IN    ACCOMPLISHING 

RESULTS. 


THERE  is  no  necessity  of  looking  exclusively  beyond  the 
Atlantic.  Here,  also,  there  were  gifted  natures  partaking  the 
same  intellectual  activity,  each  fulfilling  some  essential  part  in 
the  mental  and  scientific  movement  of  the  time.  They  all 
helped  to  create  the  stimulus  that  imparted  such  unwonted 
impulse  to  the  public  mind.  Their  penetrating  observation 
and  searching  inquiry  led  the  way  to  the  results  which  fol- 
lowed. This  is  the  more  impressive  when  we  limit  our 
thought  to  those  who  were  nearly  of  the  same  age  with  Mr. 
Emerson,  and  when  we  reflect  upon  them  and  upon  him,  both 
as  yet  in  their  childhood,  yet  soon  destined  to  take  prominent 
positions,  and  to  be  united  not  only  in  spirit,  but  to  be  social 
co-workers  together. 

It  is  marvellous  how  Providence  not  only  anticipates  ap- 
proaching events,  but  provides  for  them.  There  is  a  time 
of  preparation,  and  then  appears  a  scientific  truth  to  meet  it. 
At  the  needed  time  come  also  the  proper  minds  to  fulfil  the 
requirements.  We  look  around  and  find  a  period  of  active 
thought.  There  is  a  widespread  earnestness  for  progress. 
Literature  makes  its  demand  ;  science  puts  in  its  claims  ; 
wide  fields  are  open  for  investigation.  But  who  will  be  found 
to  work  in  them  ?  When  we  look  again,  this  thought  comes 
home  to  us.  Here  are  little  creatures  rocked  as  yet  in  their 
cradles,  —  can  they  be  the  ones  who  are  to  meet  the  needed 
requirement  ?  It  seems  at  first  incredible,  and  yet  it  is  most 
true.  Those  infants,  so  helpless  to-day,  are  to  become  speedily 


120 

the  intellectual  leaders  of  their  time.  Fitted  for  their  special 
work,  that  work  will  be  effectively  and  worthily  done.  They 
will  impress  themselves  upon  the  age,  and  leave  a  name  which 
will  be  the  admiration  of  coming  generations. 

Let  us  glance  at  some  of  the  young  people  of  that  day, 
when  with  Emerson  they  were  all  children  together.  Who 
then  could  have  conjectured  what  they  were  presently  to 
become  as  they  ripened  into  manhood  ? 

First,  we  may  recall  one  who,  when  Emerson  was  born,  was 
not  yet  one  year  of  age  ;  through  life  their  friendship  was  to 
be  unbroken.  Not  only  as  valued  friends  were  they  to  be 
bound  together,  but  as  cordial  sympathizers  and  supporters 
in  an  especial  manner  of  the  great  cause  of  education  ;  and 
eacli  to  leave  a  reputation  unrivalled  in  his  own  department 
of  thought.  When  George  B.  Emerson  was  born,  Horace 
Mann  was  an  infant  in  his  first  year.  In  due  time  that  child 
became  an  influential  member  of  the  State  Senate  ;  at  Mr. 
Emerson's  solicitation  he  resigned  his  position  as  its  President, 
and  accepted  the  office  of  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Education, 
which  office  he  held  for  twelve  years,  crowding  each  day  with 
valuable  labor  and  leaving  his  voluminous  Reports  as  an 
enduring  monument  to  his  fame. 

Benjamin  Peirce  was  born  twelve  years  after  Emerson. 
He  was  appointed  tutor  in  Harvard  College  in  1831,  Profes- 
sor of  Natural  Philosophy  in  1833,  Professor  of  Mathematics 
and  Astronomy  in  1842.  For  thirty-five  years  he  shed  con- 
tinued lustre  over  the  academic  department  of  the  College, 
in  addition  to  which  he  rendered  invaluable  service  to  the 
nation  through  the  labors  of  the  Coast  Survey,  of  which  sur- 
vey he  was  chosen  superintendent  in  1867,  holding  that  office 
for  seven  years ;  and,  associated  as  he  was  with  the  ablest  men 
in  the  country,  all  will  admit  that  none  were  more  able  than 
himself. 

Louis  Agassiz,  born  in  Switzerland  in  1807,  was  ten  years 
younger  than  Emerson.  Thus,  while  Emerson  was  working 
on  the  farm  and  in  the  garden,  Agassiz's  life  had  not  even 
commenced.  In  after  years,  when  Agassiz  had  acquired  a 


121 

European  reputation,  and  when  he  had  decided  to  make  the 
American  Republic  his  adopted  home,  Mr.  Emerson  visited 
the  town  of  Neufchatel,  near  which  Agassiz  was  born.  "  From 
a  hill,"  he  writes,  "  not  two  miles  from  his  former  home,  I  had 
a  view  of  the  lake  and  the  plains,  and  the  mountains  beyond, 
which  I  now  recall  as  one  of  the  wildest,  most  varied,  and 
most  exquisite  I  have  ever  seen.  Agassiz  there  grew  up  to 
a  love  of  the  beautiful."  Having  studied  at  Heidelberg  and 
Munich,  and  pursued  various  researches  abroad,  he  crossed  the 
Atlantic  in  1846 ;  and  from  that  time  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  study  of  natural  history  as  seen  on  the  American  con- 
tinent. One  of  his  first  friendships  was  with  George  B. 
Emerson,  a  friendship  which  continued  fresh  and  unbroken 
for  twenty-seven  years.  * 

Who  that  could  have  looked  upon  these  three  children  in 
their  infancy  would  have  ventured  to  predict  the  great  work 
they  would  each  accomplish  ?  With  their  individual  peculiari- 
ties they  filled  their  separate  spheres,  as  if  Nature  knew 
precisely  what  was  required,  and,  endowing  each  mind  with 
the  exact  gifts  which  were  requisite,  had  sent  them  on  their 
appointed  mission,  —  all  separate,  yet  all  in  harmony. 

The  year  that  Mr.  Emerson  was  born  there  were  two  stu- 
dents in  Harvard  University,  both  of  whom  were  destined  to 
fill  most  conspicuous  positions.  William  E.  Channing  and 
Joseph  Story  were  at  that  time  about  seventeen  years  of  age» 
classmates,  and  now  in  their  last  year  at  college.  As  Mr. 
Emerson's  friends,  the  three  were  to  be  united  together 
in  many  benevolent  plans,  and  by  sympathy  and  hearty  co- 
operation they  were  to  be  the  promoters  of  the  same  great 
principles.  The  name  of  Dr.  Channing  is  now  held  in  honor 
over  the  whole  world  for  his  consummate  genius,  his  delicate 
and  refined  thought,  and  his  unsurpassed  eloquence ;  while 
Joseph  Story,  as  Associate  Judge  of  the  United  States  Supreme 
Court,  achieved  both  a  European  and  an  American  reputation. 

Among  those  who  commenced  life  at  about  the  same  time 
with  Mr.  Emerson,  and  who,  residing  in  the  same  community, 
became  in  various  ways  associated  with  him,  was  William  H. 

16 


122 

Prescott,  who  was  but  one  year  his  senior.  Few  could  feel 
more  interest  than  Mr.  Emerson  in  those  researches  of  Mr. 
Prescott  which  were  to  give  him  a  permanent  place  among 
the  most  distinguished  writers  of  his  time.  The  incomparable 
History  of  "Ferdinand  and  Isabella,"  of  "Philip  the  Second," 
with  the  Histories  of  "Mexico"  and  "Peru,"  have  been  trans- 
lated into  every  language  of  Europe.  Who  that  in  1796 
looked  upon  the  child  in  its  cradle,  or  that  saw  him  in  man- 
hood, nearly  bereft  of  sight,  could  have  imagined  a  life  of 
literary  toil,  crowned  by  such  marvellous  success? 

Another  name  identified  with  American  history,  and  pleas- 
antly associated  with  Mr.  Emerson,  is  that  of  Jared  Sparks, 
whose  extensive  editorial  labors  are  universally  known.  He 
was  eight  years  of  age  when  Emerson  was  born.  In  1809  he 
was  teacher  of  a  district  school ;  and  at  that  time,  his  means 
being  very  limited,  to  increase  his  funds  he  undertook  to 
shingle  a  barn  for  ten  dollars.  Having  studied  at  Harvard 
University,  he  filled  there  the  office  of  Professor  of  History 
for  ten  years,  and  in  1849  was  chosen  President  of  the  Col- 
lege. Such  were  the  friends  who,  by  similarity  of  taste  and 
by  kindred  literary  pursuits,  were  brought  into  close  and 
constant  intercourse  with  each  other. 

Among  the  names  associated  with  Mr.  Emerson,  in  that 
formative  period  of  American  literature,  is  that  of  Richard  H. 
Dana,  who  was  a  lad  ten  years  of  age  when  Emerson  was 
born.  Educated  at  Harvard  University  he  afterwards  studied 
law.  In  1814  he  was  a  member  of  the  club  by  whom  the 
"  North  American  Review  "  was  originated.  He  was  at  one 
time  an  associate  editor  of  that  periodical,  contributing  to  it 
many  valuable  papers.  His  "Buccaneer,"  "Dying  Raven," 
"Idle  Man,"  and  "Lectures  on  Shakspeare,"  all  stamped 
themselves  upon  the  public  mind,  and  helped  to  give  a 
character  to  the  time  in  which  they  appeared. 

While  Emerson  was  in  his  infancy,  Washington  Allston 
was  eighteen  years  of  age  and  had  been  in  college  one  year. 
Allston  had  passed  some  time  at  Newport,  where  he  had  be- 
come well  acquainted  with  Malbone,  celebrated  for  his  exquisite 
painting  in  miniature ;  after  which  Allston  went  to  Europe, 


123 

studying  for  eight  years  the  works  of  the  great  masters,  and  in 
cordial  friendship  with  Thorwaldsen  and  Coleridge,  who  were 
both  with  Allston  in  Rome,  and  with  whom  he  enjoyed  the 
most  delightful  intercourse.  So  much  was  Allston  respected 
in  his  art  that  he  was  called  by  artists  in  Italy  the  "  American 
Titian."  On  his  return  from  Europe,  he  resided  at  Cam- 
bridge ;  and  Mr.  Emerson  was  one  who  could  not  only  appre- 
ciate his  delicate  refinement,  but  sympathize  with  his  poetic 
genius,  and  respond  with  profound  feeling  to  the  masterly 
delineations  of  his  pencil. 

There  was  a  boy  three  years  old  at  the  time  of  Emerson's 
infancy,  residing  in  the  town  of  Cummington,  who  answered 
to  the  name  of  William  C.  Bryant.  No  one  yet  had  heard 
of  "  The  Ages,"  the  "  Thanatopsis,"  the  "  Water  Fowl," 
"The  Future  Life."  Undeveloped  capabilities  were  there. 
But  who  could  foretell  the  inspiring  influence  which  would 
kindle  the  sacred  flame  ?  Who  at  that  time  could  prophesy 
that  the  noblest  aspirations  of  humanity  would  find  through 
him  immortal  utterance, — that  the  rivulet,  the  sky,  the 
mountain,  and  the  forest  would  doubly  live  in  his  language  ? 
The  life  of  Mr.  Emerson  and  Mr.  Bryant  ran  in  parallel 
lines.  They  occupied  about  the  same  space.  They  held 
upon  many  subjects  similar  views,  and  were  guided  by  kindred 
principles.  They  were  alike  earnest,  persevering,  truthful,  — 
widely  different,  and  yet  singularly  similar,  —  showing  how 
wonderfully  the  work  of  Providence  is  perfected  through 
various  instrumentalities. 

George  B.  Emerson  was  ten  years  old  when  Henry  W. 
Longfellow  was  born.  Both  lived  in  the  same  neighborhood, 
on  the  borders  of  the  Atlantic  ;  one  in  Wells,  a  country  town, 
and  one  in  the  city  of  Portland.  The  lines  written  by  Long- 
fellow on  his  birthplace,  could  be  repeated  by  both  with  equal 
appropriateness :  — 

"  Often  I  think  of  the  beautiful  town 

That  is  seated  by  the  sea ; 
Often  in  thought  go  up  and  down 
The  pleasant  streets  of  that  dear  old  town 
And  my  youth  comes  back  to  me." 


124 

In  their  whole  life  Henry  W.  Longfellow  and  George  B. 
Emerson  had  much  in  common.  Xhey  shared  alike  an  intense 
love  for  Nature,  with  clear  perception  investigating  carefully 
her  works,  and  interpreting,  through  them,  the  thoughts  of 
the  Divine  Mind.  They  mutually  enjoyed  the  privileges  of 
a  college  life,  and  both  devoted  themselves  earnestly  to  the 
education  of  others.  If  Mr.  Emerson  could  not  embody,  in 
language,  "  The  Psalm  of  Life,"  he  could  give  it  fit  illustra- 
tion in  his  own  daily  experience. 

Few  names  in  our  literature  are  as  widely  known  as  that 
of  Washington  Irving,  who  at  the  time  of  Emerson's  birth 
was  a  boy  fourteen  years  of  age,  attending  in  New  York  the 
day  school  of  Jonathan  Fisk  in  Beekman  Street,  a  few  doors 
below  Nassau  Street.  Every  book  that  Irving  had  given  to 
the  world,  Emerson  had  welcomed,  from  the  "  Sketch  Book  " 
and  Knickerbocker's  "  New  York  "  to  the  "  Life  of  Columbus  " 
and  of  "Washington."  Emerson  was  twenty -two  years  of  age 
•when  the  "Sketch  Book  "  made  its  appearance,  which  burst  at 
once  into  universal  popularity.  Mr.  Emerson  was  thirty-one 
years  of  age  when  the  "  Life  of  Christopher  Columbus  "  was 
published;  and  not  until  Mr.  Emerson  was  about  sixty  did 
Irving's  latest  work  appear.  When  Irving  was  six  years  of 
age  it  was  said  to  be  difficult  to  teach  him  the  alphabet. 
But  when  once  acquired,  has  any  one  yet  appeared  who  has 
made  better  use  of  it? 

These  are  a  few,  out  of  many,  of  Mr.  Emerson's  contempo- 
raries, who  may  be  said  to  have  created  the  literary  atmos- 
phere in  which  he  lived,  and  most  of  whom  were  his  warm 
personal  friends,  his  intimate  associates,  and  his  cordial  co- 
workers. 


THE  DEPAKTED. 


OH,  might  some  heavenly  hand 
Draw  back  the  shadowy  curtains  of  the  sky, 

That  once  that  glorious  band 
Of  bright  angelic  souls  could  meet  the  eye  ! 

But  they  are  with  us  still 
In  thought  and  deed  ;  yes,  they  are  with  us  here, 

To  sanctify  the  will, 
To  soothe  each  grief,  and  calm  each  idle  fear. 

At  the  soft  sunset  hour, 
When  evening  splendors  melt  along  the  sky, 

We  feel  their  hallowing  power 
To  kindle  faith  and  raise  the  heart  on  high. 


R.  C.  W. 


THE  TRUE   INSTRUCTOR. 


WHO  is  the  Faithful  Teacher  ?     He  whose  heart 

Is  ever  in  his  work,  who  slights  no  part 

Of  his  great  trust,  who  seeks  with  power  to  teach 

That  which  shall  gain  the  highest  good  for  each : 

Not  quantity,  but  quality,  he  asks  ; 

A  cheerful  offering,  and  not  servile  tasks  ! 

Ideas  and  principles  by  him  are  taught,  — 

Inspiring  Truth,  and  ever-quickening  Thought ! 

Dutjr  with  him  is  no  ignoble  strife  ; 

His  joyous  spirit  overflows  with  Life, 

While  the  glad  sunshine  of  his  nature  streams 

Around,  till  all  are  kindled  by  its  beams. 

And  more,  far  more,  with  him  the  loftiest  plan 
Is  that  which  forms  the  noblest  type  of  MAN  ; 
That  which  shall  stand  the  test  of  future  hours 
In  balanced  will,  and  well-directed  powers : 
Such  is  the  teacher  whom  the  State  should  crown  ; 
Worthy  of  LOVE  and  HOMAGE  and  RENOWN  1 


R.  C.  W. 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


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